Misconception
by Bayfire
Summary: Sequel to Every Hero's Journey: Months passed since the incident, and new strangers and familiar faces come to Gotham. The city has settled down since the threat left, but new troubles are arising: spies, assassins, and old enemies come into play.
1. Chapter 1

**Misconception:**

Chapter 1:

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

I do not own anything that is Batman related.

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><p>The city was back to its original state. After the officials had brought in the last of the criminals, new colonies, and crime families had been reawakened. Crime spread like a festering disease across Gotham, slowly returning, as people worked against it. Criminals began to get smarter, and new leaders took charge. None heard from The League of Shadows; they had never returned. Their whereabouts was unknown to everyone. As Gotham healed from her previous attacks, new mob lords took over secretly. Some were lucky to get far into their businesses while others who were thwarted by the Batman were not so lucky. Even if Batman worked day and night, the corruption would never cease to be. That was the price he had to pay for being the only effective vigilante in the dark city. Crime rates however, never skyrocketed, with him they remained steady enough for the GCPD to control.<p>

On this night two kids walked back from school a little later than usual. They talked as the ten year old boy kicked the snow around and the fourteen year old girl pulled her snow coat closer. The teacher had needlessly held them back, and she seemed rather nervous when she asked them to stay an hour to talk to them. The lady then asked them to assist her with other classroom chores. They had to miss their bus, and when the teacher released them, they had to get to their new home on foot. Both children were nervous about being out this late in the night, in such a dangerous and evil city. In the day time it was alright, but the night seemed to lure out the loonies, and murderous. The girl's eyes darted to every movement that was not their own, and didn't relax until she made sure it wasn't a threat.

She sighed, the boy was just as nervous, and she wanted to get his mind off of the dangerous ground they were treading on.

"Jimmy, where do you suppose he is now?" Babs asked her little brother, and he shrugged.

"I dunno. Probably beating up the bad guys." Jimmy looked up at his sister.

"Yeah, but don't you wonder what he does in his regular life? Who he really is?" Babs asked and mused as she said it. James feigned ignorance, and shrugged. Babs didn't know that her brother also shared a secret with her father. "I wish I knew…"

"Yeah… I wonder if he'll teach me any more of his fighting skills." James pondered excitedly, and changed the subject. Babs allowed a smile, and tucked the reddish brown hair behind her ear.

"I don't suppose dad will be talking to him anytime soon?" Babs asked, and held onto the straps of her backpack. She knew it had been awhile since any one had seen Batman.

"Well he did mention that he needed to discuss some information with someone tonight. Maybe we can ask dad." Jimmy suggested.

"I always wonder-" Babs froze in midsentence as a tall man cut in front of them. He was large, and towered over them, making them seem small and powerless. His yellowed teeth shone as he smiled with a crazed look in his eyes.

"Can I help you?" Babs asked trying to keep her voice calm. Dad always told her it was best to remain calm in these situations.

"Recess is over kids." The husky voice broke out in the suddenly abandoned street. Both Babs and James backed in the cover of the dark alley, and the man followed.

"What do you want?" Babs asked with an even voice, bravery in her tone. The man laughed darkly.

"Boss said it would be best to eliminate you two as a little gift for the Commissioner."

"Dad doesn't need anything like that, but we really should get home it's getting late." Babs grabbed James' hand, and tried to move around the fat man, but he didn't let them pass. He seized Babs by the arm.

"Listen here girly! You're going to do what I say when I say!" The man gripped Babs' arm tightly, and bruising it. Something seemed to snap inside the boy and he popped the man in the nose an instant later, emitting a small crack that could be heard. "Why you rotten little-"

He was interrupted in midsentence. Babs had skills since she became an acrobatic at school. Also few pointers from the wrestling team, that happened to share the gym, never hurt. She slipped from the thug's grip, and slinked behind the man, and grabbed the railing. She pulled herself up, and landed on the man's back, her arms strangling his neck. She would not let the man touch her little brother.

"Jimmy, run!" She shouted hoping the momentary distraction would give her brother a chance to escape.

"No way am I leaving you!" James shouted and ran head on at the thug. Babs rolled her eyes. Why did Jimmy have to go and be heroic? The man got temporarily winded but recovered quickly pulling Babs away and tossing her at a trash crate. She hit the metal and landed roughly, but got up only to see in horror as the man held her brother by his platinum blonde hair. In a moment he had her too, his arm around her neck trying to choke her, and James was held in a similar position.

"Let's get this over with you brats!" The thug yelled harshly, and handled them roughly.

"I have a problem with that." A voice rumbled behind the man, and Babs felt the thug tense. She and James looked at each other and smiled, despite their current position. In a couple seconds they were released, and not a moment later they heard the sounds of fists hitting against flesh. They turned and saw the man on his back, and the dark knight standing over him, tossing the knife aside in disgust. He grabbed the man by the collar and shoved him against the brick alley wall.

"If you attempt this crime again, prison will be the least of your worries!" The creature Batman growled darkly to the now whimpering man. They could see how angry Batman was, and the man nodded to the dark knight's wrath. The thug was almost crying. _'How pathetic…'_ Babs thought, and Jimmy looked to be having similar thoughts. Batman shoved the man to the ground, and the thug went running into the night. Both of their smiles disappeared at the look on Batman's face when he faced them. It was furious.

"What were you doing out this late?" Batman rasped at the two, and looked around the dead end alley.

"Our teacher held us back to speak to us." James piped up. "She had us in the room for several hours."  
>Batman's eyes narrowed and he looked at James.<p>

"What's your teacher's name?" Batman demanded.

"Mrs. Edgerson." Babs supplied, and Batman nodded curtly. Batman sighed as he looked over the two, and guided them out of the dark alley to the light of the lamps.

"Go home now." Batman looked around in search of anyone who might be watching. Babs and James nodded, and looked at each other, but when they looked to where Batman was, they only saw an empty spot from where he had been.

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><p>In another part of Gotham a battle was taking place between two opposing forces. The gangsters lined the front of an old building, as the GCPD attacked them from behind their cars, wearing bullet proof vests.<p>

"Let's move in men! Move in!" Blake shouted loudly to his squad as they tried to dodge the bullets that flew past. The sound of machine fire permeated the night air. The mobsters were starting to get weaker and weaker as the cops over came them. When Blake had thought it was going to get better, that's when they had brought out their automatic guns, and rifles. Now more machine fire rang out in the night. Blake leaned up against the police cruiser with a gun in one hand.

"Where is your friend when we need him?" Blake huffed as the Commissioner was reloading his weapon.

"…" Gordon mumbled, and snapped the clip on the gun. He quickly peered around the edge of the car with his gun, and fired at his target.

"They're aggressive tonight." Blake remarked as he finished reloading his own weapon. Gordon curtly nodded.

"Yeah well, aren't they always?" Gordon huffed; his breath could be seen in the cold air.

"Not since we've gotten a new mob lord on our hands. I hear he's the new patron for the Falcone crime family." Blake straightened his bullet proof vest.

"Who is this guy?" Gordon huffed exasperated. There seemed to be a never ending supply of mob bosses flowing into Gotham.

"Jeez Gordon, don't you read the papers?" Blake arched an eyebrow, holding his gun pointing upwards.

"I have a lot of work to do…" Gordon sighed, and Blake knew it was true. The Commissioner was always leaving the office late, and coming in early the next morning to continue the never ending stacks of paperwork, and cases.

"Well I've heard his name was Alberto Falcone, the son of the late Carmine Falcone." Blake informed, and glass could be heard shattering behind him. Gordon looked away from Blake.

"I knew he had a son, but I thought he had denounced his father's criminal ways, and quit the city." Gordon ducked as more machine fire narrowly missed him.

"It's no secret that he's involved, in fact the paparazzi announced his arrival on the front page. The picture showed him walking with some other minor mobsters, and shaking hands with them." Blake reported, and just then louder shouts could be heard and more gunfire rang out in the street.

"It's time we get in there." Gordon nodded, and they both crept to the front lines of the battle. The rage of the thugs was almost too much for them to overcome, until the Batman arrived. Gordon hadn't seen Batman or Bruce Wayne since they had gotten all the prisoners in. It had been several months since the man had made an appearance. Now Batman that he was needed again, and he was back to defend the city. The vigilante took them out, and left the instant he knew that the GCPD could overcome mobsters. A few of the officers shot at Batman, but the rest were too concerned and busy with finishing the gang war.

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><p>In the Wayne Manor study Bruce lowered himself in the chair wearily after coming back from his night crusade, and his eyes drooped as he watched the sun rise through the window from the east. His head was propped in a hand as he allowed himself to unwind from the night's activities. Alfred walked in with a tray of breakfast, and set it down on the end table.<p>

"Thank you Alfred." Bruce nodded to his friend.

"How many were there this time?" Alfred inquired.

"There were seven gang wars last night alone. I've got my hands full with this mobster." Bruce shook his head.

The city had been recovering from the breakouts and the Commissioner's disappearance, and Batman had gathered all the criminally insane and prisoners including Crane, and Carmine Falcone. The crime rates had remained very low for eight months. Bruce always knew that the absence of crime and corruption would only be temporary. He knew it would return, but he had anticipated that the calmness would last a little longer.

Now it was in mid-December, and a new mobster had taken position, and returned to the city. Ever since his appearance he had been spreading little bits of havoc throughout the city. Of course the courts of law had not been able to convict and prove that he was the mob lord responsible for all the crime. He never went as far as to try to terrorize the entire city, so Batman knew that the man was only after business and keeping the crime family alive. Falcone was doing his job, a darn good job. He still worked to find some leverage against the man, but he was never able to find anything, with his hands being full with saving victims, and stopping gang wars. He knew that the man was good at evading him with ease.

The current district attorney was good, but not as brilliant as Dent had been. None of the lawyers were as dedicated at Dent and Rachel had been. The idealism in that branch of jurisdiction was no longer existent. All those who defended or prosecuted were only good to a certain extent. Some were uncorrupt, but that didn't mean that they were incredibly concerned about who they fought for, or fought against. It was a never ending pattern of ups and downs.

"Well then, you'll be pleased to know that you're schedule has been altered for the day."

"What are the changes?" Bruce asked tiredly. The sunlight permeated the cold study as the sun came up, and lit up the snow covered world.

"Your meeting with the CEO of Falstaff Corp. has been cancelled due them having some other plans. Lucille Amore was tired of being stood up on dates so she called off this evenings dinner, and all the other board meetings won't have crucial changes-"

"Wait did you say Falstaff, as in Gregorian Falstaff?" Bruce looked up at his butler.

"The very one… what is it?" Alfred looked at Bruce's exasperated expression.

"This isn't good…" Bruce muttered and stood up, and reached down to pick up a piece of toast. He looked at Alfred. "Falstaff hates Wayne Enterprises. This guy almost got the company out of business; three times, he's attempted this. He took advantage of the company when it was low on funds after building the monorail system. He's always been a rival to the Wayne's, and he only shows up when he sees an opportunity to take advantage."

"So he'll be trying to sabotage Wayne Enterprises now…" Alfred looked out the large window.

"Just another thing to add to my growing list of problems…" Bruce took a bite of his breakfast and turned to leave the room. Alfred looked at the tray of the half eaten breakfast in silent worry, but followed his employer into the large hallway of the Manor.

The manor was built exactly as it had been before, except with a few more modern touches. The new elevator to the underground caverns where secrets lay was one, and a few other things that would come in handy should anyone attempt to "visit" without authorization.

"Where are you going sir?" Alfred asked as he saw Bruce grabbing a coat.

"To exchange some information" Bruce pulled on the tan winter overcoat, and grabbed the white Camaro's keys. Alfred sighed in concern as his charge headed to the garage.

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><p>Gordon walked out the doors from where he worked, glancing down at the untraceable text. '<em>The usual place'<em> He walked about three blocks, and turned a corner, and entered the alley where his friend awaited him. He spotted the person who summoned him and he leaned against the wall of the narrow alley.

"What do you have for me this time Wayne?" Gordon asked the secret vigilante. The person adjacent to him spoke from a shadowed part of the alley. Gordon could still make out the person's features. The man pulled out a file, and handed it to Gordon.

"These are the advanced searches for the mobsters Tony Zucco and Gus Marco." Bruce spoke in a low but not quite gravelly voice. They had often met like this since the mob wars had been more frequent. The nights were too busy with all the action, and this was a much less dangerous and more convenient way of exchanging important information. This was the first time Gordon had seen him in many months.

"Thanks…" Gordon looked down at the files and asked. "Did you see the news report for today?" Bruce shook his head.

"I only got in an hour ago." Bruce informed. Gordon pulled out a paper with his gloved hand, and gave it to Bruce. The head line was in bold print. '**FALCONE STRIKES AGAIN'** Bruce sighed and shook his head. It always bothered him that everyone knew who the culprit was; it was just that they were too afraid to speak against them. He looked over the picture; it showed the same man with the dark hair and tan skin, wearing the sunglasses, and shaking hands with people who were obviously jailbirds.

"He's getting worse, since you've brought down some of his drug ports." Bruce handed the newspaper back to the Commissioner.

"How?" Gordon asked, obvious dread in his voice.

"He sent someone to kill James and Barbara again. I was tracking the assassin for a while, so he couldn't harm them." Bruce reported, and Gordon shook his head angrily.

"Who was involved this time?"

"Their teacher, you may want to run a background check on her." Bruce informed.

"I am seriously considering locking those two away in the basement." Gordon mumbled, and looked at Bruce. "Is that all there is Wayne?"

Bruce nodded, and Gordon turned to leave.

"Wayne?" Gordon asked before leaving. "It's good to have you back."

Bruce nodded to the older man, and Gordon walked out of the hidden meeting place as he looked inside the file. Moments later the billionaire left the place, and walked two blocks to where his car was parked. He was back, and he was ready. He was prepared to defend his city once again.

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><p><strong>AN:** Hey, I'm back again! Are you ready for more? I definitely am up for another challenge. This chapter is basically for setting the stage. I wanted to start this story off with a different feel than the previous one, and give the floor to other characters in the story. More is coming. More explosions, action, and adventure are going to be included. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and if you didn't enjoy it, I'm sorry that you feel that way. Anyway, I can't wait to hear from you. Wish me luck as I embark on writing this new story! Thank you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Misconception:**

Chapter 2:

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

_I do not own anything Batman related._

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><p>Batman crept to the scene of the third murder that week, minutes before the cops were to arrive. The apartment was dirty and quiet as he walked from room to room searching for what he hoped not to find. He walked into a small room and found a girl's body lying stiffly on the floor of the dark and abandoned apartment.<p>

Her face was white and angelic; her eyes were closed. She was no older than ten years. He felt his heart sink at the sight of her. Bruce knelt down carefully and observed her dead form. He felt anger stir in his chest as he reminded himself that a person did this to a human being, a little girl. He pushed his emotions aside for the moment and focused on the task at hand. He carefully tried not to contaminate the crime scene as he looked. An end table had a glass of water tipped over and broken, the throw rug was out of place, and finger nail marks were on the door frame. These were signs of struggle but they ended where the girl's body was found. No marks, bruises, or broken bones. '_Drugs killed her.' _Bruce deduced, and proceeded to take a blood sample. In conclusion the killer had made her paralyzed, and left her to die. He felt his fists clench at the thought of the murderer; that a person would sink that low, and kill an innocent child. At that minute he heard sirens wailing as they came closer, and he reluctantly left the girl lying there unmoving.

A new murderer was on the loose, a new challenger, and another puzzle fro Bruce to solve. There had been a total of six killings, and all of them had two leads; they were all children and they were killed by the same drug. It disgusted Bruce to no end that a person would be that evil to kill someone, let alone a child. Batman waited on the rooftop adjacent to the scene, and waited for Gordon to arrive. Nowadays Blake often tagged along with the Commissioner, still not trusting the vigilante. After the events involving the League of Shadows and Talia, he had come to allow Batman to do more. Blake also knew not to try to mandate over him. He no longer demanded that Batman not do something, or get involved. Blake now knew that the dark knight was just as stubborn as he, and would not stand down from doing it his way.

The Commissioner was the same as always, and provided Bruce with the information and access that he needed to the GCPD files. The event hadn't changed them much at all. The League was not able to damage the already worn but strong friendship. His thoughts then drifted to Talia, and he wondered what position she was in.

When he thought of her, he saw a sad and confused person. If one did ask Bruce what his opinion was of her, he would say she was lost in herself. Much like he had been following the death of his parents. He did feel sorry for her, even if she did cause him a lot of pain. She was a lost soul, looking for the meaning to her life, and now she had to coop with the idea of defeat after putting so much time and effort into it. It had been eight months since he had seen her last. Last time she had been trying to kill him; she probably would kill him if she saw him now. She was not of genteel spirit, anyone who knew who she really was already knew that, and she didn't seem the forgiving type. He didn't care what she thought of him, he just hoped that she had listened to his word, and left the unsatisfying pursuit of revenge, and that she would stop harming people for her own selfish desires.

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><p><em>Seven months earlier…<em>

Talia couldn't wait another moment. She and two of her men trekked across the snow covered landscape. The letter that had been mysteriously sent had been gnawing at the back of her mind for a month. She was born naturally curious, and she usually was more controlled about it, but this was just driving her mad. The thoughts of the letter invaded her thoughts while she was training or trying to focus on doing something else, until it became unbearable. She had finally given in, and ordered two of her better fighters to get ready for a departure.

Now they found themselves on a familiar route, towards the destination; home. The place she had spent a lot of her childhood in. She was about 19 when her father asked her to leave. That was when Bruce Wayne had come. She had not been happy about having to leave, but her father said it was for her own good, and Talia reluctantly left out of loyalty to her father. On her way down off the mountain from the monastery, she spotted a lone figure hiking up the mountain towards her home. '_So that's my replacement…'_ She had thought completely irked that at her father's plan. She had turned away from the monastery and didn't return until after the place had been destroyed by fire.

Now she was going to return to the rubble, and the charred remains of memories. Luckily she had her father's men, and though she would never admit it to anyone, she needed them. Some of them she had grown up with and though never spoke to them, she did have silent friendships with them. One of them was traveling with her towards her home.

At last she saw the village that still remained there on the slopes, unchanged. When she walked through town, none of them spoke to her out of fear. After they had passed through the town some miles later they came through a very snowy mountain pass. She was climbing up the steep and rocky path to the half destroyed place. Snow fell in blankets, making it harder and harder to see, and move. Through it all they made it to the top. She was completely exhausted, but she didn't falter as she stepped forward. One of the front doors was off the hinge, so she stepped inside pushing it aside. Nothing lit the insides of the broken place. Wooden beams still lay on the floor, and the ceilings were caving in. It looked the same as she had left it. The sight of it made her heart clench. Sun light and snow made its way inside through cracks and holes. She walked up to the chair where her father had used to sit in, and put her hand on the arm of the chair.

"I will never forget…" She whispered in promise.

"Focus will make you stronger, Talia." She froze on the spot, and the person spoke again. "Are you ready to begin?" A voice so familiar, yet foreign to her, spoke from behind her. She stood, still looking forward, and nodded.

"Yes."

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><p>"Will it be installed soon?" Bruce asked Fox, and the man nodded.<p>

"Yes and to add one more thing… the system is highly sensitive, and will catch movement from a far distance." Fox showed the blueprints to Bruce. They walked inside Wayne Enterprises.

"It will be nice to play it bit safer…" Bruce nodded, and they took a turn into the elevator. The doors were about to close before a hand came down and stopped it from closing. Both Fox and Bruce stopped conversing, and looked up to see a red headed man with a mustache. He was about the Bruce's height, and, though, a little more hefty.

"Excuse me gentlemen, but I'm catching a ride up." He came in before they could say anything. He chose to stand in between them, drawing more attention to himself. He looked at each of them in aloofness, and ignored them. Bruce was fine with this, and from the man's behavior and features he had a pretty good idea who this man was. "Point me to Wayne's board room, if you please."

The elevator finally binged as they made it to the top of the building, and they all walked out. Bruce, and Fox eyed the man as he walked in the hallway like he owned the place. Bruce noted the man had a slight limp. He had no idea who they were. Fox being the CEO and Bruce being the owner of the company.

"If you'd just follow me…" Fox motioned with his hand.

"Don't you have to get to your work… on the lower levels…" The man eyed Fox and Bruce with a slight scowl.

"Oh pardon me," Fox smiled mischievously. "I'm the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. I believe you have a meeting with my employer and I." The man raised his eyebrows and his demeanor was only slightly more respectable.

"Where are my manors? My name is Gregorian-"

"Falstaff." Bruce stated, and Falstaff looked at him with disinterest.

"Who are you?" He said his name

"The owner."

"Oh, yes, now I remember you, son of Thomas Wayne." Falstaff stated

"Yes, you knew my father. You met when you _borrowed_ some of the prototypes."

"Heh… You look _and_ act like your father..." Falstaff said while looking away from Wayne in disgust.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Bruce walked around the man and opened the door to the conference room. Fox went to his own office to retrieve some documents.

"Pity he died… The deals my company made with his were altered because of his premature parting."

"I'm sorry that it caused you trouble." Bruce gritted his teeth, and had to look away from the man to keep from losing his temper.

"It's quite alright. His death I suppose can be excusable … but barely." Falstaff said in a cold voice. A couple minutes passed in silence as they waited for Fox to return.

"So… Brad-"

"Bruce Wayne." Bruce stated in a hard voice.

"Of course," Falstaff said airily, and watched as Fox returned to them with the files. "I called for a meeting the other day, but I got sidetracked with other business."

"I see," Fox sat down to join them. "What was your reason for coming down here sir?"

"I want to make a deal with you." Falstaff drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "Call it a truce, for all the dispute between our companies."

"Oh? And what do you propose?" Fox raised his eyebrows.

"To keep… accidents from happening," He looked at Bruce who was watching him with a deadpan expression, and looked back at Fox. "I propose you allow me to purchase the chemical lab on the outskirts of Gotham, near Gotham Bay."

"Absolutely not." Bruce spoke with an even voice.

"Why not?" Falstaff questioned angrily after blinking in surprise. He was obviously not used to hearing the word "no".

"I have my reasons…" Bruce waved his hand, and put on his airheaded façade. "Besides that branch has brought us good income, right Fox?"

"What?" Fox looked at Bruce in confusion, but Bruce nodded. "Oh…Uh… yeah, right. It has done very well." Fox played along.

"I see, and I suppose you'll not let me have any other part of this company!" Falstaff's eyes turned slightly fiery.

"Now Mr. Falstaff-"Fox tried to get him to be calmer. Falstaff huffed, but he relaxed his stance.

"I can't say that I'm surprised at you Wayne, but you'll see, I'll find a way to have it." Falstaff spoke in a calmer voice and stood to leave both Bruce and Fox sitting there quietly. The door closed a little harder than usual. Fox turned to look at Bruce in question.

"Those labs barely contribute to the company's success. Falstaff has been after them for years. " Fox sighed and Bruce nodded.

"I've figure Falstaff has other reasons for buying that place." Bruce stated.

"Right you are Bruce." Fox glanced at the closed doors.

"Falstaff is not giving up on buying it, he wants it very much. He probably wants it for the location, being so close to Gotham Bay." Bruce stated tiredly.

"Falstaff is not an honest businessman; he was tried three times for the import of illegal drugs." Fox nodded in agreement.

"Those labs not only produce chemical weaponry, but they an enormous supply of rare and inaccessible ingredients to the public. My guess is that he wants to use it to make drugs."

"And he doesn't know how to develop or where to find the ingredients. That's why he's always hated Wayne Enterprises; because we always have something that he wants." Fox shuffled his papers.

"He needs to sell mob businesses new products." Bruce muttered, and Fox sighed quietly.

"Oh boy, I think I see a major storm coming…" Fox muttered, and Bruce nodded in response, he was not looking forward to that when it came.

* * *

><p>Gotham's moon rose high in the night sky, obscured by the smog clouding over the city. The Dark Knight arrived to where Gordon and Blake where waiting on a rooftop, and startled both of them when he spoke from behind them. Blake looked to be trying his best to keep a deadpan expression and not scowl. Batman, as always, ignored him, and spoke to Gordon straightaway.<p>

"Do you have the credentials?" He asked, and Gordon handed the papers to him, and Blake huffed quietly.

"Any leads?" Gordon asked the dark knight, and Batman nodded.

"Now I'm certain the killer is targeting children from the ages ten to fourteen. All of them paralyzed before they passed, and all murdered by the same drug." Batman replied, remembering the murder from the night before.

"I'm working on the blood samples. " Blake informed.

"I already got one. It's a Neuromuscular-blocking drug, a drug usually used by doctors working with anesthesia and surgeries." Batman replied. Blake looked slightly peeved but didn't say anything.

"So it's someone with access to these drugs. A doctor." Gordon concluded, and took a gulp of his coffee.

"Or a patient…" Batman pointed out.

"That's the problem; there are hundreds of doctors on staff at all the different hospitals in Gotham." Blake shook his head. "We can't check them all. Besides it could be anyone stealing or smuggling in those drugs."

"I'll look into it." Batman nodded, and turned to leave, but Blake held up his hand quickly.

"Hold it a moment, before you go and disappear" Blake spoke, and Batman turned to face Blake. "I have a problem with your interference."

"Lieutenant…" Gordon started off in a warning.

"No, it's not because I think he needs a brain check, which he does, but because he's been doing most of the work for us, we are relying too much on him. Doesn't he have a life… at all?" Blake crossed his arms, and turned his back to the dark knight facing Gordon.

"No, and believe me, I think he doesn't have anything better to do." Gordon nodded, and Blake turned to see that Batman was gone. Blake shook his head in defeat and left the roof through the door.

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><p><strong>AN:** Sorry for the delay! All I have changed is the sequence between Fox and Bruce. As Kaylie 628 bravely pointed out, Fox was out of character. I hope this is better, and makes up for the out of character mistake I made! See you next time that I update!


	3. Chapter 3

**Misconception:**

Chapter 3:

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

* * *

><p>Inside a restaurant on the eastern part of the Narrows, people crowded around a long metal table. The back, more secluded part of the restaurant provided a good assurance that no prying ears would listen in on their conversation. A man came to sit at the table. He had dark skin, and dark hair, and his demeanor was calm and collected. It wasn't until he brought his fist down hard on the metal table rattling it, and creating a loud noise that made the chattering of the other mobsters stop abruptly.<p>

"Good evening gentlemen, I called together this gathering for two reasons," The man spoke as he stood, putting his palms on the table. "First to discuss the upward sales,"

"Buyers are desperate to find a good source to dope them up." Someone stated.

"They want drugs to take them places other than Crane's messed up world of fear." A Latino man muttered.

"Like Carmine Falcone… the old nutcase." The bald man stated louder to the Latino man. Alberto Falcone's eyes showed no anger, just calm coolness.

"I'm pleased to know that the consumers are unhesitant. However the second matter must be considered. I have gathered us all for a second reason." Falcone looked over all the mobsters who were with him. "To discuss the ongoing problems that is cutting our full sales."

"It's that commissioner; he's been pinpointing our drug ports every time one gets settled." A bald man announced. The others nodded in agreement, all expressions irked. They began to discuss it slightly amongst themselves.

"I think I know how he's doing it; he's probably got the Batman on his side." An Asian man stated. All the mob lords ceased their chatter, and looked at him disbelievingly.

"The guy is the most wanted man in the city, why would the city commissioner have help from him?" A lankly man called out.

"That's insane!" The bald man opposed.

"Crazy!" Another mob lord shook his head.

"Why is he still fighting against us? Why is he still-" The Asian man was cut off.

"That's not the point men, the point is, that we need to figure a way to bring in the shipments without interruption, and find a way to keep them from being found by the cops." Falcone walked around the members that were sitting. "That is the reason we united, so that we can remain stronger against our opponents. Now I'm not crazy enough to try to mess with the Batman or the commissioner, those who previously owned our businesses were not at all successful."

"We can't leave them to find us though."

"I know." Falcone stated.

"What are you suggesting?" The bald man asked folding his hands on the table.

"We need someone who can put them off, keep them oblivious to the situation." Falcone walked away from his chair as he spoke.

"Like a distraction?" Tony Zucco offered.

"Yes, a way to keep them attended to more pressing matters." Falcone nodded and walked to the window, eyeing the deserted streets.

"Like what?" Another minor mob lord asked.

"Murder" Falcone turned from the window, and looked at all of the men.

"Hire anybody then." The bald man offered lazily. Falcone shook his head and turned his attention to the bald man.

"It's not that simple. The killer will be arrested, and I'd have to find another. It would go on like that for a long while. Pretty soon they'd catch on to what I'm doing, and the distractions would be useless. No, we need a professional. Not a lunatic, not some crazy anarchist, we need someone who can get away with the killings for as long as we need."

"Someone who can keep it all hushed up." The bald man muttered.

"Yes, an assassin, that's what we need." Zucco nodded in agreement as did the other mobsters.

Just then sirens wailed nearby, and blue and red lights illuminated through the windows. Doors could be heard slamming shut, and a chatter of voices as the sound of foot fall approached the back part of the restaurant.

"Time to go boys." Falcone stated, and the men left quickly and quietly through a backdoor entrance. "We'll continue this on a later date."

Suddenly cops burst through the door, and found Falcone watching the television taking swigs out of his beer bottle. The long table had alcoholic drinks and was lined up with chairs; a clear sign that there had been a meeting moments before. Lieutenant Blake entered a moment later, looking down on the mob boss. Falcone made no motion that he had noticed them, but they knew better.

"Alberto Falcone you are under arrest for the attempted murder of two children." Blake stated as two officials approached the dark haired man. Falcone turned, setting his drink aside, as he waited for the police to cuff him.

"Nice to see you again Blake, I was wondering what was taking you so long." Falcone smirked casually as the police officers started to lead him towards the door. Blake was clearly reigning in his temper as he struggled not to give Falcone the satisfaction.

"You will be tried for your crimes." Blake stated in a monotone voice as Falcone chuckled calmly.

"Yeah, and I'll be free as a bird once again. See you on the streets in a couple days." Falcone stated as he was escorted out the door by two officers. After the men left, Blake gritted his teeth, and his fists balled up. He knew that Falcone was right. He had probably already paid up with the right people, and would be allowed to go when they declared him not guilty. It was a very frustrating game to play. He opened his eyes, spotted an unopened beer bottle, and he reached for it taking a quick swig. The next instant he followed his men out the door.

* * *

><p>The eastern Gotham air was unnaturally still, no sounds penetrated the thick silence. Smog blocked out the moon and the stars completely giving the city a blackened sky only slightly illuminated by the dim city lights. Three hours later, in another area of Gotham, a mile from the restaurant a girl lie on the cold ground stiffly. The alley was quiet, no one saw her, and no one took notice of her futile attempts to get help.<p>

She was alive, but barely. This small girl was still fighting for her life. Her small form was shaking in stiff movements as sweat formed on her brow. Her big brown eyes searched the darkness for help. The life was slipping from her tiny body, as she desperately tried to call or scream for help. She found that she couldn't, her voice seemed to be paralyzed as well. She began to see black spots in the already black sky. Her eyes wondered from left to right as the drug took its toll on her. Her once curly dark hair was now damply matted on her neck. She tried to feel where the first and second needle had been injected. She hadn't even seen it coming; nothing was around her as she neared the time of her passing. Terrible fear gripped her as she realized that these sharp and cold breaths were going to be her last.

Her breathing was shallow enough already, but it hitched when she saw _it_. It had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. There in the ominous darkness, in the dead of night, a demon waited at the end of the alley. It came to her slowly and with the stride that of a wraith. It seemed to float towards her as its footsteps fell without a sound as it approached her quietly and quickly as she struggled to move, struggled to fight for her life.

"Don't fight it dear one, let it take you." A whispery and horribly raw deep voice called to her in the maddening silence. She felt more tears fall from her eyes, as she had no idea what to do. Black fear seized her as she gazed into those soulless eyes; they seemed like a dark abyss. The monster moved the hair from her face as its claw like fingers wiped away the tears.

"Don't cry, it will all be over soon." She couldn't feel her arms and legs, and she had no choice but to stare at the creature in her last moments. Now she wished desperately that she had her mother and her father with her. She needed them to be there with her, be there for her, in this horribly terrifying moment. She managed to say two words that would be her last.

"Mama…. Dad…" She croaked quietly, and painfully.

"They won't be here… hush now…" The demon watched as foam came out of her mouth, and as she continued to cry as her soundless sobs wracked her body. Darkness, the girl, and the monster were the only ones there. Nothing else. The heartbeat of the girl stopped abruptly, and her eyes became glassy, as she gazed up into the night of the dark city. "That's a good girl… sleep now…"

The monster continued to stroke the dead girl's hair, and it soon stood over her. It then drifted away from the angel in the dark, leaving her for her belated rescuers to come. It edged away from the girl disappearing and being consumed by the darkness.

* * *

><p>Bruce found the body of the child that the parents had reported missing only hours before. Once he heard it, he knew it was the serial killer. The murderer was very skilled and careful at keeping evidence off of anything. This criminal was getting a little out of hand. The murderer clearly knew what he was doing hence the intractableness.<p>

Batman didn't see anything that he hadn't seen before, and set up an inconspicuous text to Gordon with the location of the girl's body. He thought again of the killer, and he fumed quietly as images of each victim, each child's body displayed in his mind. The death of a full grown person was one thing, but to find the lifeless body of a child was another matter entirely. A life taken away from a being so young, too young to die was by far one of the most condemning crimes in his mind. This killer was ruthless, and cold.

Moments later Gordon arrived in his cruiser, and approached the dark knight who was standing over the lifeless form. Gordon paused and approached slowly once he saw the victim was but a child. He shook his head sadly as he knelt and observed the body. He looked up at Batman with a frustrated expression.

"He's getting worse. This is the third victim this week." Gordon stood as he looked at the child again.

"He's not the first priority to catch." Batman growled.

"Right, it's Falcone now." Gordon nodded. Alberto Falcone was the top on their list. His business was growing too quickly, despite everything they'd done to bring it down. If they let him get too out of hand, he'd be as powerful as the former Falcone. "Why did you call me here without my men?"

"It's not about Falcone, but a business man I know; Gregorian Falstaff." Batman took note at how Gordon looked at him in question.

"What about him?"

"He's drug dealing." Bruce rasped, and Gordon sighed.

"Again?" Gordon shook his head and spoke again. "Alright, I'll have Blake work at tailing him."

Batman nodded, and glanced down at the pale face of the dark haired girl that rested in death. This could happen to any child, any child between the ages ten and fourteen. Realization came over him, and a different type of apprehension gripped him, as he looked back at Gordon.

"Gordon, I suggest that you keep Babs and Jimmy on close watch." Batman spoke as he looked down at the victim child. His teeth clenched when he saw the little girl. When he thought of the two out in danger he grew tense. When Talia had taken not only Gordon, but James too he grew furious. That was one thing he found he couldn't forgive her for. Yes he thought she was confused, but when she took them away, she knew what she was doing. He considered James as a friend, and something made Bruce want to keep the child from harm. Bruce would never forgive himself if James or Babs got in the same situation as the dead body that was resting at his feet. Gordon seemed to have understood what he was thinking, because his face grew dark and he nodded.

"I will. Falcone hasn't been successful this far. This killer will be caught soon." Gordon looked down to the child, and up again only to find Batman disappeared. "I hope."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Before anybody asks, the killer is not Mr. Freeze. I just wanted to say that so that things don't get too confusing. I leave that for you to guess. Well sorry for the delay, I have been very busy. Tell me what you think about it. I know it may seem a little dark at the end, but that's just going to be the killer's character. I hope you all liked it. I will update again with another chapter soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**Misconception:**

Chapter 4:

* * *

><p>After about a week they stood in a new drug hideaway. They had captured it with the help of the dark knight, and in order for it to have been possible; the lights had to go out. The factory was currently submerged in darkness, because of the huge power outage. This was the biggest factory Gordon had caught with Falcone. He searched the rooms with a flash light, and his hand on his gun, for anything when he came upon the big room. Detective Stephens, Blake and a few other officials followed behind. Gordon enjoyed this kind of work; being stuck behind a desk wasn't what he had in mind, so he often went back to the MCU and put his back into the work that was provided. They looked at the scattered ingredients, with various marks and labels on the packaging.<p>

This was where they had arrested most of the drug dealers. Gordon shone the flashlight across the room. Gordon looked for anything, and something in the top right corner of the ceiling caught his attention. He pulled up a ladder and retrieved the item. He smiled when he found what he was holding, was a camera. He got off the ladder, and plugged it into an ancient TV set. Lt. Blake and detective Stephens stood nearby watching the others who worked at the scene. They were always cautious, and when it came to working with other officials, they kept a sharp eye out for any crooked cops.

"Look at this." Gordon waved his hand at Blake who came over to where Gordon was standing. Gordon looked at the monitor the small screen displaying the security footage that the dark knight had set up in the factory. Blake smirked when he saw the image of Falcone walking around, and most obviously working with the illegal imports.

"I think we have our forensic evidence." Blake nodded to Gordon who cracked a smile. Stephens nodded in agreement.

"Finally." Gordon sighed.

"We'll need to have this under heavy guard. Falcone will be raving mad, and will want this destroyed." Stephens stated wisely, and Gordon pulled the disk out of the camera.

"We'll just need to get this for him to copy." Gordon put the disk in a case, and Blake's expression became irritated. Stephens looked slightly perplexed. He didn't know which _him_ Gordon was talking about, and wasn't curious enough to ask. Gordon put the disk into his coat pocket while noticing some other officers watching him put it away safely. Gordon looked at his two most trusted coworkers, and spoke in a near whisper. "We need to be certain we don't lose this."

* * *

><p>Falcone crossed the street to a crumbling home in the dead of night. A body guard was with him following closely. He was growing desperate. His rage started up whenever he thought of Gordon's latest success. Insiders had told him that Gordon had something on him, and that the evidence was being watched under careful eyes. If he wasn't able to divert the GCPD attention by the next day then he was completely screwed. He would get a lot of jail time, and he couldn't afford that. The Falcone crime family was growing stronger every day, and if he was behind bars he couldn't conduct the operation. If he wasn't there, he knew that the underworld of Gotham would lose much of its power and he would lose the muscle in the town. That was why he needed some outside help. He knew this was a long shot, but he would do it. He would find the silent reaper of death; even if the guy was completely insane, he knew what he was doing.<p>

If his sources were indeed right this was the place that he would find him. Over the last couple days, any of his men who wondered this area would turn up missing. No traces or any sign of struggle. His heart thudded when he stood in front of the old style gothic doors with wrought iron bars over the doors and windows. The building was overgrown with weeds, and the brick was cracking. He entered through the hole; all the windows were boarded up. The cave like domain was filled with small bone chilling whispers that echoed off the stone walls.

"Hello?" Falcone called out to the darkness. The whispering stopped. Silence greeted him. Falcone walked in further showing no apparent fear. "This was the place they said I'd see you."

Falcone heard the faint sound of breathing, and the smell of strange fumes reached his nose as he walked further inside. He almost gagged when he smelt the aroma of blood and decay. He was glad for once that the lights were out. Who knew what was lying around in this den? Darkness consumed him and his bodyguard. He stopped abruptly, something about the place seemed to unhinge him, but he kept his face neutral. He considered leaving, he didn't enjoy being to the one who lost his cool.

"Brutus?" Falcone turned around only to see his body guard sprawled on the floor, completely paralyzed and shaking slightly with glassy eyes. Fear gripped Falcone briefly. '_Should I turn back? Why did I come here?'_ Falcone looked to see the entrance closed. _'But how?'_ He hadn't even heard anything.

"Why have you come here?" A slithery voice snarled from the darkness, from where, he knew not.

"I have a job for you." Falcone stated in an unwavering voice, reaching for his checkbook.

"I don't kill for money scum." The voice said just behind him. Falcone whipped around his heart pounding.

"This is very important; if this doesn't happen then the GCPD will be focused on me. I'll risk losing everything I've inherited and worked for. The need to change their focus, I've taken more attention to myself than I really want." Falcone spoke like a true business man.

"I think you know my tactics. I'm not a hit man." The voice said from beside him.

"I know, you're much more valuable than that. I need you to do away with an easy target." Falcone nodded.

"Why should I do work for you? I kill on my own terms." The killer's voice began to rise in a hiss, and Falcone felt suppressed.

"I'll offer you anything!" Falcone caught himself almost shouting, but collected himself. His face grew calm and relaxed again.

"Anything?" The killer's voice seemed interested and the sound of light footsteps could be heard.

"Yes, I can't afford anymore jail time. Money is being lost. Just kill this person, and I'll give whatever it is you want to you." Falcone looked at the darkness where the murderer could've been standing.

"I only kill children. A few adults on occasion but rarely." The creature's voice whispered.

"Good, because I have the perfect job for you." Falcone stated darkly. The killer stood in front of him with a black trench coat, and a face obscured by something that covered most of his head. Red dripped from the mask made of gauzes, and Falcone figured the source of the smell.

* * *

><p>In the dark and early morning, one room in the mansion was lit dimly. Bruce sat cross legged on the floor in the study of Wayne Manor. The small lamp was enough light for him to read and study the data inside classified police files. The GCPD still continued their seemingly endless fights against the undying force of the mob. Falcone was very close to being caught and hopefully he would not narrowly escape the trap that the prosecutors and police force alike had set up for him. A week earlier he had been arrested for an attempted murder, but then released because there wasn't enough evidence to support that accusation. Now they did. Gordon would receive the evidence that Bruce had left behind on the recording. Falcone was often thought of as, untouchable. Everyone knew he had paid up with the right people, but life went on, and everyone pretended that it never happened despite all the signs.<p>

The murders were able to stay out of the papers and away from the greedy hands of the press. Bruce highly suspected that this was Garcia's doing, due to his desire for more votes for his next campaign as mayor of Gotham. The politician was very influential and knew what and where he needed to go to make himself seem stronger. The murderer's hushed up reputation was proof of his power. The killer's status, though, had remained inactive for the entire week. This greatly puzzled Bruce Wayne to no end. Murderers were usually eager and ready to go on their next hunt with strong bloodlust, but this one remained in the dark.

Bruce knew that he was dealing with someone smart and someone very dangerous. The killer knew what to do, and for all he knew the murderer could be trying to throw him off, create a new drug, or target his victims more carefully as to not leave any evidence behind, or all of the above. The monster would simply vanish without a trace. Yes the intelligent killer had left evidence by leaving the drug inside the systems of the bodies and Bruce could choose to trace back to where they had come from, but otherwise he could not find anything else to hunt him down. Besides, Blake was already working on the tracing.

Bruce was used to this; being kept in the dark but the murderer was not on the top of his list of priorities. Falcone was part of the bigger picture; he was the man that needed to be overthrown. Once the last Falcone was down, Bruce knew it was a very high possibility that none would be brave enough to take a stand and hold the place as head of the crime family. That would be a relief in many ways. Gotham could resume her healing, and criminals would be in a bad place trying to look for easy money. If Alberto Falcone was brought in with a crime big enough to put him away for life, that would leave behind a bad reputation for the crime family; four leaders would be down in the span of three years, and none would be willing to hold that rank as readily.

Bruce was currently flicking through the pages that Gordon had supplied for him of files on Gregorian Falstaff. Usually Bruce would have gathered his own information on the man but found that he couldn't due to trying to put Falcone behind bars and besides, Blake had made a point that the GCPD relied too much on Batman, and he would let them do _some_ of their work.

Some, but not all.

He would still be working on the major details, like keeping Gordon up to date on more detailed information and eves dropping on secret conversations around the city. At last Bruce found the page that he wanted; business records. By determining the increase in sales by Falstaff Co. he would furthermore see if Falstaff was indeed importing illegal items. If he confirmed that, then he would hack into their databases to get a closer look at their numbers. With his new computer down in the cave he could break into almost any system undetected, and with the assurance that it wouldn't get fried like the previous one in the bunker. Bruce eyed the paper and sighed as he looked through the complicated and long details of their sales. Just then Alfred walked in and set a tray down on the floor of his breakfast. Bruce looked up surprised, not realizing that his butler had been awake.

"Finding anything important?" Alfred asked and Bruce looked back at the paper continued to stare with his brows knitted as he scanned the page.

"It's Falstaff, and I think I might have something for him now." Bruce didn't glance away from the file. Alfred looked at the page.

"How can you be sure he's a criminal? Perhaps he's not involved in illegal activities." Alfred said with the same tone he always carried. Bruce laughed sarcastically and arched an eyebrow at Alfred.

"This man we are talking about almost destroyed Wayne Enterprises with one easy motion. He is the enemy, and I have a feeling he's not just involved for his personal gig." Bruce spoke as he set down the paper, and looked at Alfred wearily. "He could be involved with Falcone as a patron for his own influence in the Gotham underworld as well as in the elite world."

"Sir, logical that notion may be, but always be careful about judging intentions. Misconceptions can be a fatal backfire on your part. For all we know he could be getting income from a perfectly legal source and the last thing we need is for Batman to be destroying an honest man's business." Alfred stated wisely, and Bruce nodded. He knew that it was right to listen to Alfred. The man had good perspective, and well thought through judgment.

"He's just going to be a highly observed suspect, and your right Alfred, we wouldn't want officials angrier than they already are with Batman. " Bruce thought. The demand for Batman's capture still existed.

The police still open fired at him when they saw him nearby; they still madly chased after him as he surged through the city on his bat pod, but the people had quieted down a bit. When they heard that the dark knight had killed all those people, they lost all respect for their silent guardian. At once there were outbreaks of fury and vengeance. There were huge rallies that marched up to the GCPD building demanding for justice, and the press had a field day with the uproar against the newly realized murderer. The people were stirred up completely, and joined with each other creating havoc and disorder in the city for days. Weeks had gone by, and the voices crying for Batman's blood faded. What was once a wild, untamed, and flamed chorus of outrage was now an unyielding, unceasing, and ever-present chant to find him, and make him pay. This hatred often made Alfred feel inclined to ask Bruce not to go on his nightly patrols, but Bruce could not do that. He would not abandon the people. He promised he would fight crime for Gotham, for his parents, and for her.

The memory of his loved ones was just poison in his veins; constantly aching and never leaving. His parent's death was a major blow to take, and even though it had happened all those years ago, he found that it never stopped paining him. When Rachel died, his world seemed to crumble around him, adding to the sorrow he was now engulfed in. That was why he tried not to think about it too much.

Bruce shook his head and swallowed his breakfast. He glanced up at the clock, and then out the window to see the ever so faint glow in the horizon telling him it was time. He sighed but stood and walked towards the marble stairs in the foyer. Once upstairs in his massive bedroom he got ready for the morning. The reason for him being up before the sunrise was because he had a meeting with his CEO about things that were not work related. In order to keep things secret, especially the new project, they would have to be devising cover stories, and plans to make sure no one would be able to trace their shipments and connect Bruce Wayne with the dark knight as Coleman Reese had done.

Bruce shrugged on a coat, and grabbed the keys for his silver Lamborghini. Once in the cold car he sped down the snowy and gravelly road away from his home. The air around him was still very dark, and the land rural. Slowly the dark fields were replaced with city lights and skyscrapers. Snow was falling in a light blanket as the powerful engine rumbled through the quiet streets. Some people were out and about, mostly kids waiting for the school buses. He drove down a couple more blocks to the more deserted parts of the city. No lights were on in the complexes, and everything was still. All of the sudden Bruce saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye, he turned to see what was ahead of him, and he tensed when he saw it.

A tall dark figure was in deadly pursuit of an oblivious blonde haired boy who Bruce knew very well. James continued to trudge through the snow, not knowing what creature was behind him. Bruce narrowed his eyes, and surged closer to the person of interest. By then James had turned to see the demon, and had broken into a run. The stalker noticed the boy's panic and moved after him at a surprising speed. Bruce hoped James would keep running to divert the pursuer's attention.

'_Keep up the running, and whatever you do-'_ James darted into the dark alley, and Bruce inwardly groaned at the boy's choice of destination. _'…don't run into an alley…'_

The creature followed, knowing that the boy was surely entrapped and closed in the alley that was free of any witnesses. Bruce swerved and parked the car unevenly and jumped out without a sound, quietly sprinting into the almost pitch black alley. He heart thudded for fear for the boy's life. He found the stalker standing over the boy with a needle raised above his head with an iron grip. Bruce growled darkly.

Without hesitation, and afterthought, Bruce used both of his hands, and smashed the glass vial in the killer's unprotected hand. The dark person screeched in pain and swung at a spot where Bruce had been. Bruce was now behind him and pushed his head into the side of the building. The creature groaned and turned to face Bruce with an obscured vision. Bruce looked down, and he saw the bloody hand of stalker still gripping the needle.

In an instant the dark figure used the needle at him, but the billionaire dodged the jab, and twisted the stalker's arm, the needle fell out. Bruce raised the sharp edge and quickly embedded it deeply in the man's trachea. The creature could no longer make noise, but it darted off into the darkness, staggering in pain. Bruce glared darkly after the killer with clenched fists. He could feel his heartbeat in his chest. He slowly willed himself to relax after making sure thing was gone for good.

Bruce turned to the boy who was hiding in the darkness, and spotted his blonde hair. The sun was starting to light up the air, and Bruce glanced around nervously; he had to get out of there before anyone saw him lingering in the area. He called to James quietly, and the boy came out shaking badly from the scene he just witnessed. The boy's eyes were wide with fear of the near death experience. After a moment of standing in the dark he finally found his voice.

"Th-Thank you mister-" James paused when he noticed that the man was Bruce Wayne. He immediately lost his tense posture, all fear gone from his demeanor. "Bruce!"

The boy nearly shouted, and Bruce cringed at his loud voice filling the quiet streets. The child ran up to him and clasped onto his arm. Bruce was frowning in worry. James noticed his wary expression, and he stepped back slightly.

"Come with me now." Bruce ordered and walked quickly towards his car, and the boy followed him without hesitation. He opened the passenger side of the car for James, and glanced around briefly before entering on the driver's side. His car took off down the road, a safe distance from where the attacker had been. He then spoke to the boy, both eyes on the road, and its surroundings.

"What were you doing out there?" Bruce spoke harshly, but only because he was terrified. James looked up at him in a startled expression.

"Going to school." James replied in a smaller voice.

"Why not ride the bus?" Bruce asked feeling he already knew the answer, and he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

"It skipped my stop." James answered, and Bruce clenched his teeth. _'Of course it did…'_

"Why didn't you go back home?" Bruce asked sternly, as he pictured all the things that could've gone wrong if he hadn't chosen to leave home earlier. He shuddered; the images terrified him.

"Cause if I miss the bus I usually walk to school anyway." James reported.

"In the dark? By yourself?" Bruce spoke with a darker voice.

"No, I usually have Babs with me." James replied.

"Where was your sister?" Bruce asked after that, his voice short tempered.

"Sick in bed, she has the flu." James relayed and Bruce nodded that he had heard. James hesitated but spoke again with a fearful voice. "Who was that guy?"

"He's a killer James. Your dad and I have been looking for him. He goes after kids your age. You were an easy target. He followed you because you were alone." Bruce rasped, the line between Batman and Bruce Wayne becoming blurred.

"Usually I have my sister." James gulped and looked at Bruce with wide eyes. Bruce noticed the boy's frightened voice, and sighed as he stared at the road and loosened his grip on the wheel. He knew it wasn't the kid's fault. He looked at James with a tired expression.

"Yes, but now you know. Never go off by yourself." Bruce warned and James nodded in understanding, but he seemed confused about something else.

"Why haven't I heard of him before?" James asked in a quiet voice.

"It has been kept quiet for a while. Don't tell the other kids what happened, it would lead to too many questions." Bruce informed and James nodded. "Only your family should know."

They both rode in silence down the road inside the powerful car. Bruce sighed after telling himself that the boy was okay, and continued reminding himself. Bruce passed by many buildings before James looked around with a curious expression, and glanced back at a large building that they had passed.

"My school was back there."

"I can't drop you off there, and I believe you can't walk in late without a parent." Bruce continued down the road. James nodded at what Bruce had said.

"So… there's no school today?" James looked at Bruce with a hopeful expression, and Bruce nodded his head, while James did a side fist pump. Bruce tried to give the kid a stern look, but failed trying his hardest not to crack a smile at the boy's enthusiasm.

"Where are we going then?" James asked

"_I'm_ going to work; _you_ are eventually going with Alfred." Bruce notified.

"You mean your butler with the funny accent?" James asked innocently, and Bruce chuckled a little, but nodded. James' eyes lit up, and then he asked. "But I don't get it, why don't you just drive me home?"

"I don't think your mother and sister would understand why a complete stranger would be driving you home, and the same for your dad. Officer Blake doesn't like seeing Batman during the night, and I don't think he'll appreciate seeing me in the day too." Bruce said sarcastically, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted. James grinned, probably remembering the night of the bat pod escape several months before. James looked excited, too excited for this early in the morning.

"This doesn't mean that anything riveting is going to happen…" Bruce informed, but he inwardly shook his head in worry as he thought of the killer that was now after them. He couldn't be seen publicly with James, and he hoped it wouldn't be difficult to keep this quiet. '_This is going to be interesting…'_ He thought as the sports car grew closer to the building that was Wayne Enterprises.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Like or dislike? I am deeply sorry for the long delay! I had one big writer's block, and I didn't know how to convey my story correctly. I hope this is interesting enough, and that I'm not putting any of you readers to sleep. I am so encouraged by the reviews! Thank you so much to those who have supported me from the previous story all the way into this one, and to those who are supporting me now. I hope that I will update soon, so that the wait will not be as long as it was before. Tell me what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

**Misconception**

Chapter 5:

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

I do not own anything Batman related.

* * *

><p>"I don't care what happens! Just do it!" Falcone snarled into the phone loudly in a bar deep in the Narrows. His angered outbursts were making everyone that sat near him flinch, they all knew that Falcone never got angry over anything, unless something really bad happened. "I swear I'll have your body at the bottom of the river!"<p>

The bar tender handed him a drink, and Falcone slammed his fist on the counter, while shouting profanity into the line. The server backed away wisely, not wanting to be another victim. The thugs watched him carefully, looking out the window for any sign of police activity. The sun was about to break through the eastern sky, but otherwise the Narrows was completely submerged in darkness. Falcone only had days before he would have to flee unless something was done about the evidence that the GCPD obtained overnight. Falcone had heard that the assassin he sent after the commissioner's son had failed to commit the murder. Now that the GCPD wasn't distracted, no thug of his was brave enough to go into the heart of the lion's den that was the MCU. He'd searched through and found no one desperate enough to do so.

They'd have to be as daring as the Joker, but stealthy enough to get out of there without the officials noticing. Falcone was out of luck, no one in their right mind would go. The mob lord looked up; the chatter had ceased and the occupants had gone still. Falcone turned to face him, the reason for his current predicament.

"You didn't do it." Falcone said through gritted teeth. The figure could be seen a little better. The monster was growing bolder, coming into the light of the day, and drawing more attention to himself.

"I met some… resistance." The creature whispered while covering a red, damp spot on its throat. Falcone took no note of it.

"What?" Falcone asked, anger lacing his words.

"Someone… I'll _kill_ him for disturbing my… _needs_." The creature hissed out, liking his lips, bloodlust was implied in his tone. The dark figure was silent a moment while wrapping his bloody hand in already soiled bandages.

"Why are you here?" Falcone grumbled looking away, while the people in the bar just stared, not hearing the exchange.

"I'm destroying the evidence." The creature hissed, and before Falcone could ask why, he was gone.

* * *

><p>The silver Lamborghini was a hard thing to miss on the streets of Gotham, but they were able to slip past without the regular paparazzi taking notice of who was in the car. James looked around the inside of the sports car with awe, feeling the leather seats, and looking at all the features. Once Wayne Enterprises was directly in front of them, James gazed up at the tall building in wonder. The building above ground disappeared when Bruce pulled in the lower garages without a hired chauffeur parking his car. Once they were parked he went to the other side and opened the door, allowing James to get out. Bruce flipped out his cell phone dialing Gordon quickly. It rang once before it got picked up.<p>

"Gordon here." The commissioner greeted with a tired voice that made it clear that he was up all night again. The law enforcer spent many endless nights cleaning up after another capture of Falcone's drugs, and the mob wars that happened between them.

"Gordon its Bruce Wayne." Bruce heard something in the background thump.

"Sorry Blake- I have to take this." Bruce listened to Blake ask who it was, and Gordon said it was the plumber while Blake said he was headed over to the lab. Gordon's voice was more alert. Bruce never called Gordon for anything, not even emergencies. Since the call was rare Gordon thought it was important. "Sorry about that Wayne, has something happened?"

"Your son is here with me. There was another attack." Bruce stated in a serious voice cutting to the chase, and he heard Gordon swear quietly. Bruce felt anger rise in his voice, as it did in his head. The killer was getting too personal, hitting a little too close to home for their liking. "It was an attempt by the killer we are tracking."

"Can I talk to him?" Gordon asked his voice still on edge but only slightly, and Bruce handed the phone to the boy, who took it quietly. Bruce watched James answer each of his father's question with a 'yes sir' or 'no sir' about what had happened. The exchange lasted a couple minutes before James handed it back. "I'm at an aftermath of a gang war at the moment, when does he need to be picked up?"

"I'll bring him back to the station by ten and in the alley on the narrow side." Bruce didn't say it as a question.

"Wayne, I don't-" Gordon began to protest, but Bruce interrupted.

"Gordon, this kid can't be alone anymore. He'll be targeted again, I'll bring him back. Just as a safety measure." Bruce stood firm, and Gordon sighed. The man didn't really have any other choice. Finally Gordon spoke again.

"Alright Wayne, I owe you more than one." Gordon confirmed, and Bruce hung up without saying a goodbye, it was probably a bad habit he had obtained as being Batman.

Bruce sped dialed the manor. It rang a couple times before someone picked it up.

"Wayne Manor." Alfred's British accent could be heard.

"It's me." Bruce remarked, and leaned up against the car.

"Master Bruce? What's wrong?" Alfred's voice betrayed worry, and apprehension.

"Nothing, I'm at Wayne Enterprises. We are in the lower garages." Bruce spoke and moved away from the car with the phone up to his ear.

"Who is we?" Alfred asked with question in his voice.

"James Gordon with me; he was a target." Bruce stated, and Alfred asked for more clarity.

Bruce went on to explain what had happened on the ride over. Alfred didn't bother to mask his disapproval of Bruce's rather brash decision to attack the killer, and risk exposing his alter ego. Bruce just listened, but didn't object to Alfred's words. He knew that Alfred was right. What he did was very stupid, but he couldn't exactly stand by and put on his playboy persona. Alfred seemed to understand this, and didn't scold him too much. After Bruce had explained it all, Alfred sighed tiredly, and spoke again.

"I'm glad you made it out okay, but why are you calling me?" Alfred inquired.

"I need you to come pick up James from Wayne Enterprises when you can." Bruce looked at James who was leaning against the Lamborghini with his hands in his pockets, waiting patiently while looking around the garage.

"I'll be over in an hour, in the meantime have him stay with you and Lucius." Alfred replied quietly.

"Thanks Alfred." Bruce looked back to the entrance of the garage, and hung up the phone. He turned to face James, who looked up expectantly.

Bruce then motioned for the boy to follow him. James followed, picking up his backpack and throwing it over his shoulder. Bruce walked over to what appeared to be an ordinary wall but when he put a hand on it a small device flicked out, and he put his thumb on the device and it beeped in confirmation as the little light on it turned green. The wall dented inwards and Bruce pushed the small opening to enter. He held it for James to follow. He went in without a word with an awed expression and Bruce smirked and took the lead again. The door behind them closed, James looked back, and Bruce felt them going downwards. The blue numbers displayed how many floors they were going down. Once they made it to third level down, the elevator door opened to reveal a large room with gleaming lights with hundreds of unmarked metal crates.

Bruce stepped forward with James close behind him. James turned around, looking at the huge size of the room, while Bruce continued forward. James turned and caught up with Bruce, and they made it to where a man was on the computer with a scrutinizing expression.

"Lucius." The man turned to see Bruce and a little boy. Lucius looked at the blonde haired boy curiously, and then recognized that the kid was the Commissioner's son. He remembered well, that Bruce told him that the boy was in on the secret. He cracked a smile and turned to Bruce.

"It seems we have a breach." Lucius said and stood up. Bruce turned introduced James to his CEO. Lucius nodded, and James smiled shyly. Lucius looked to Bruce, and raised his eyebrows. "Should we precede?"

Bruce nodded, and Lucius waved a hand for them to follow, and led them to an opened box that was set in the middle of the floor. Fox popped open the crate that held contents inside. He then looked at James.

"Do you know where Batman gets all of his fancy gadgets?" James shook his head but looked at Fox curiously and then to the box. Bruce smirked at the kid's reaction, but waited for Fox to explain. "They are all designed and planned in this very room."

James looked around in the room with awe, becoming ten times more interested in the crate. Fox chuckled and lifted the lid of the box. It showed three different bladed gauntlets, all similar but not exactly the same. Fox picked up the first one, running his thumb along one of the blades, and handing it to Bruce so that he could examine it.

"This one is lighter, allows more movement, but doesn't do as much nerve damage. It is best for agility, and speed, if you want to move quickly." Fox picked up the second one. "This one is highly flexible; duration is strong, a bit heavier, but it causes more nerve damage. One interesting feature is that it's blades come up with a current using memory cloth."

"What's memory cloth?" James asked his shyness was drifting away.

"It's a material that shapes when an electric current goes through it." Lucius explained. After showing Bruce the third gauntlet, they moved onto the next things that were going to be advanced. James would then ask more questions about each thing, his curiosity growing quickly. By the time they were done, Fox and the boy were talking like friends. Bruce glanced down at the receipt for the parts they had bought. He and Fox discussed how they were going to cover their tracks for the next shipment that was coming.

Bruce noted the time, and remembered that he and Fox were scheduled for a board meeting. He stood just as the phone rang. He picked up the device, caught James' eye, and Fox's, James and he headed for the alternate exit to the garage. Alfred was waiting for them in the garage when Bruce and James walked through the hidden entrance. Alfred was driving a Rolls Royce, and Bruce approached the car, opened the door, and allowed the kid space to clamber in.

"So, you're James Gordon?" Alfred asked with a ghost of a smile, and the boy looked at him and cocked his head, but nodded.

"You are Batman's butler?" James asked.

"Yes," Alfred chuckled at the boy's description of him. "I remember talking to you."

"See you in the afternoon." Bruce closed the door of the black car, and turned to the main elevator to the higher levels. He stepped inside, and straightened his loose tie on his black Armani. The elevator took Fox and him up to the top floor where a meeting would take place in the board room. He walked through the door, and his assistant handed him his much needed coffee. He swallowed it whole hoping that it would be enough to keep him alert. He and his CEO turned another corner, and met an unpleasant surprise. There waiting by the door was Falstaff. Bruce walked ahead, and acknowledged Falstaff in false enthusiasm.

"If it isn't Gregory?" Bruce smiled with his carefree act. Fox watched the other business man with a cautious eye. "What can I do for you?"

"First off, you can do me better by not calling me that." Falstaff said with annoyance, and Bruce shrugged, but kept up a pleasant façade.

"Sure thing Greg. I hate nicknames. In fact-"

"No need to explain yourself Wayne, I came here to make sure you come to a function I have planned." Falstaff rolled his eyes and Bruce listened with an airheaded expression. "It's in a week for the New Years day party."

"Is it important for me to be there?" Bruce asked with real question. Falstaff's invitation was random. '_Why does he want me to be there?'_

"Let's just say that we got off to a bad start, you and I, and I think we need to start fresh. Like a new year, it's the perfect occasion." Falstaff said almost too excitedly. Bruce arched an eyebrow, but smirked.

"I'll be there, but you don't mind if I bring some friends do ya?" Bruce asked carelessly, and didn't wait for Falstaff to reply. "I'm sure Delilah would love to go. Make sure you have good booze."

"Of course, and you make sure you are there." Falstaff grinned crookedly and turned with a triumphant look on his face, and when his back was turned Bruce frowned, knitting his eyebrows, and watched the businessman carefully as he left. Fox looked at Bruce confused and the billionaire shrugged and shook his head, and pushed the doors open to enter the meeting room.

He got the same usual annoyed looks and stares by his employees, but they would immediately turn their attention back to the CEO, after he had a seat. Fox talked about the good possibilities that could come out of manufacturing and selling a certain product. Bruce felt the lack of sleep catching up with him from the previous night, and early morning. His eyes grew heavy as he fought to keep his eyes open, but the chair was just so comfortable…

Next thing he knew he was being shook awake by his CEO. The room was completely empty of the other board members. Fox as usual had his knowing smirk, and Bruce began to feel the soreness, and a headache from lack of sleep.

"How was the meeting?" Bruce asked and Fox only chuckled.

"You're going to be late for your lunch date." Fox mentioned while straightening papers. Bruce inwardly groaned, but stood to go to another long talk. He just hoped that his date was someone he could have an intelligent conversation with. By the time his day was over it was two o'clock in the afternoon. He got in his Lamborghini and drove back to Wayne Manor.

* * *

><p>Blake was determined, stubborn, and persistent. He would not fail his new project he was assigned by Gordon himself. He wouldn't need the Bat's help, not like last time. He would prove that the GCPD didn't rely solely on the dark hero. He would get a cure for the killer's poison, anything to keep a person alive long enough for a medic to find them. He had been at this for two weeks now, working hard to obtain this information. He knew it would take a while to find the cure, but he had to try. He worked with another doctor in the lab, who was a former doctor from the now destroyed Gotham General. He stood leaning against the counter while the doctor studied the samples.<p>

"There are two." The doctor nodded, and stepped away from the samples. Blake had almost fallen asleep after sitting in the dead silence of the labs.

"Two what?" Blake arched an eyebrow, and faced the researcher.

"Two injections, I can tell by the chemical chromatography tests I have done. One is a nerve blocking drug, used with anesthetics, while the other element is poison. Not just any poison, this has been developed and has been through genetic engineering." The doctor pointed at the two samples, one of which was under a microscope. "A real genius must have made this."

"And?" Blake asked while taking the notes down on a notepad.

"The poison can kill a young child easily, but it is not strong enough to kill a grown adult; only make them very sick." The doctor labeled the samples carefully. Blake looked at the doctor in question

"So the killer is not selective, just a coward." Blake deduced and put the notepad in his back pocket.

"Most likely; he's not going to get his hands dirty and risk killing an adult. He'd have to have a good reason to do so." The doctor supplied, and put the samples up to the light while shaking them. Blake nodded and left the lab for the day. He had found enough. Blake drove his cruiser to the MCU, and when he finally caught sight of the building with a couple extra cars, he remembered that they were guarding the evidence today.

He could feel that something was off about the building. Gordon was currently at a meeting with the mayor. Blake walked up to the building and pushed through the glass doors. The secretary greeted him, as did a few officers who were working with forensics. Blake went up the stairs, and to the room where the evidence was being held under lock and key. Guards stood outside the door, and Blake was granted immediate passage. What he saw next in the room made his hand grip the doorknob in unpleasant surprise. The early morning only revealed a shadow in the far corner. Blake raised his gun, and the figure raced out the fire escape window. He knew this wasn't Batman, as he open fired immediately. The guards outside heard and came bursting through the door, but it was too late, the intruder was gone. The room had been ransacked, and guards where lying on the floor unconscious, but not dead. He knew what this all meant. The conscious guards were calling for backup, but Blake called Gordon immediately.

* * *

><p>Gordon was in the hot spot at the moment, having just relayed what Blake told him, to the mayor. The mayor was glaring out the window, while the commissioner shifted in his seat uneasily. It wasn't his fault entirely, but the mayor found ways to make it seem that way.<p>

"What exactly happened there Gordon?" Garcia growled, and stood glaring out the window, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We had the evidence! We had it!"

Garcia slammed his fist on the table, and Gordon cringed. The politician usually had more control over his facial emotions, but this was obviously too much. The mayor sighed when he caught Gordon's reaction. His expression relaxed considerably after this.

"We need to bring in Falcone soon. I remember the history of the former Falcone. He started off small and unthreatening, but then his business grew like weeds." Garcia walked in front of Gordon. The politician was starting to compose himself as he put on a deadpan expression. "I owe you my life Gordon. I know you can get him for some jail time. Please don't make this mistake again."

"We'll bring him in. We'll find more evidence." Gordon nodded as a promise. The mayor seemed satisfied for the moment, and went to stand near the window again. The mayor could probably see his votes going down the drain, and he couldn't afford the public losing patience with the GCPD while he was in power.

"Are you going to be able to find the Batman soon? I know he's extremely hard to catch, but the people are still asking about it." Garcia watched Gordon nod again, and picked up a cup of coffee.

"We'll try." Gordon spoke for the GCPD and not himself.

* * *

><p>Bruce pulled up to Wayne Manor on the gravel road around three in the afternoon. With his car parked there he walked up the marble stairs, and opened the heavy wooden door with ease. He walked into the foyer, laying his overcoat on an end table, and walking into the living room where he heard some laugher. Bruce smiled at the sound; it had been so long since he had heard laughter within the walls of his home. Bruce breezed through the archway into the richly furnished room. Alfred was talking to James, who seemed to be having a good time.<p>

"... and then the condensed milk was gone. Another time I found them sneaking it, I added an extra _lovely_ ingredient to it. They drank it, and wouldn't go near it for weeks."

"We actually thought he poisoned us." Bruce stated and smirked from the doorway, crossing his arms. James turned and Alfred looked up. "Rachel was the one who insisted Alfred had done it on purpose."

"Smart one she was." Alfred said with a sad smile gracing his features. Bruce felt a shadow creep over his face, but stopped thinking about her, and turned to James.

"Have you seen the whole place before?" Bruce changed the subject, and James shook his head. Bruce then beaconed the boy to follow, and James leapt up from the couch.

"Thanks Alfred… you know you're really awesome." James looked back to the butler.

"Thank you James. It was a pleasure to talk with you." Alfred chuckled a bit, stood, and inched near the door. "In the meantime, I'll prepare a little supper when you're ready."

Bruce nodded and they walked the halls of the huge manor, and James enjoyed it all. He listened to Bruce talk about the history of the massive building. The sun was setting, flooding the halls in golden light. The stars could be seen vaguely in the darkening sky. When they had passed through almost all of the hallways, they came upon one more thing. They found themselves in front of a big portrait of the Wayne family, obviously important.

"Who are they?" James asked innocently.

"That's me and my parents." Bruce spoke with his hands in his pockets. James scrutinized the painting, looking at the younger version of Bruce Wayne, as if he couldn't fathom that Batman was once a child like himself: young, carefree, and innocent. Innocence was taken from Bruce at a young age, spawning the creature Batman inside Bruce. From that day on, he was no longer a normal child. He grew up with anger, which had taken over much of his life. Bruce wasn't fond of those dark years without his family, he was trying his best to keep a grim look off of his face, but James caught his gloomy expression.

"My dad says they were nice people." James spoke softly, and Bruce smiled wearily at the boy.

"They were. They spent so much time trying to save the city." Bruce looked down at James.

"Just like you." James stated and Bruce chuckled quietly. He looked at the picture as dark memories came back to him of the nightmare of when they died, and the countless sleepless nights that followed. The days that came after growing up as a depressed person, left him full of vengeance and deep seated hatred at Chill. From then on his mind had gone on a downward spiral of a twisted and lost fate.

"Not exactly like me." Bruce murmured darkly, but he remembered that James was watching him. He put on a smirk, and motioned for the boy to follow him. "I think Alfred will have dinner ready."

"Sure." James spoke, but his mind seemed far off and distant, as if pondering something deeply. He followed Bruce to the kitchen. "I wish I could help the city like you."

Bruce paused in mild surprise and looked at the boy before they entered the kitchen. James looked up at him with a fully serious demeanor. He sighed then got down so that he was eye level with James.

"James, my life is a hard one. I had to go through great difficulties. Grow up to be someone honorable, and lawful."Bruce said each word carefully making sure the boy would understand, and James nodded, if hesitantly.

Bruce knew that it was every boy's dream to become a hero one day, but the kind of work he did was not for the sake of being heroic. He was taking on the dangerous and heavy responsibility of being whatever Gotham needed him to be. People hated him. He always hoped that one day Gotham would be free of the oppression of the mob, and crazy lunatics; that one day he would be able to retire, being fully satisfied with the work he had done. That was his goal and purpose. It was why he was trying to get the last major mob lord behind bars, so that he could fulfill what his father had set out to do, before the life was taken from him. James was an intelligent boy for his age, but his spirit was not broken. Bruce intended to keep the boy that way. He did not wish to keep James out of the way of opportunities.

"Are you two coming before the night is out?" Alfred asked coming from the kitchen. James nodded to Bruce again. The boy probably understood, but not completely. Bruce stood and turned and they made their way into the kitchen, and sat at the counter. Alfred made James spaghetti, while Bruce sat there with a tall protein shake.

"You're still drinking that green stuff…?" James spoke, seeming to have forgotten the previous conversation. He wrinkled his nose like he had done before. Bruce smirked at the memories of how he had been able to talk with James for the first time. Bruce reacted by swallowing the whole thing down.

"He rarely eats anything else…" Alfred stated, and James looked at him in disbelief. Bruce watched with amusement.

"When he has great food made by you?" James asked, and Alfred chuckled. Once they finished the meal, Bruce looked out the dark window, where the snow was falling in thick blankets. The sky was black. He then glanced up at the clock on the wall. Alfred took note of what Bruce was doing, and sighed tiredly.

"Just be careful tonight Master Wayne." Alfred said and gathered the dishes. Bruce nodded as a promise, and had James follow him. They walked into the study, and Bruce used a fingerprint scan to have the book case swing open. James just watched with an awed expression, gripping his backpack and winter coat.

"Coming?" Bruce asked the fazed kid.

"Are… are we going into the bat cave?" James asked.

"Erm, if you call it that… yes." Bruce shrugged and cracked a smile. James followed, and on the smooth elevator ride down Bruce loosened his tie. The doors opened to the enormous, cavernous opening. It was the same cave if not heavily modified. The river still ran through and the waterfall still covered the entrance, but now the ground was overlaid by cement. A new system rested against the far right wall. In the middle sat the tumbler, the bat pod, and another thing covered with a brown tarp. The cave was still lit dimly due to the fuzzy and flying inhabitants.

"Babs would freak if she saw this." James grinned smugly.

Bruce walked near the water where a stand rested. He pushed a button, and the river water stirred. A fiber glass case rose out of the water. The case opened up revealing Batman's suit and cowl.

"I'll be back in a moment." Bruce spoke to James taking his suit and armor to another part of the cave. James walked over to the vehicles. First the bat pod which he had seen before. He then turned to the massive beast that was the tumbler. He had seen it on the news but he had never been able to see it up close. He thought that the tumbler had been destroyed, but he figured that Batman would replace it. The tarp covered mystery. Just then Bruce or rather Batman walked in, fully suited up in his dark armor.

"What's this?" James pointed at the object that was covered. Batman looked at the covered thing.

"A new project. You'll see it in a few months." He growled, and walked up to the tumbler, opening the hatch. The dark knight figured it was more practical to ride in a tank through the heavy snow. Through all the other things changing, the features of the tumbler remained the same. He reached down and helped the kid inside the black tank, before getting in himself. He steered the massive vehicle in the direction of the waterfall opening, and then reached down for the throttle. The tumbler roared to life, vibrating the entire engine, the tank lurched, and broke through the waterfall with great force, into the frigid Gotham air.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** That was even longer than the previous chapter. I hope you all liked it. I enjoyed writing this chapter without the writer's block being there. It was nice that it all came to me as I wrote. I know that we haven't seen much of Gordon, but we will eventually. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Misconception**

Chapter 6:

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

I don't own anything Batman related.

* * *

><p><em>Seven months previous…<em>

"Focus will make you stronger, Talia." She froze on the spot, and the voice spoke again. "Are you ready to begin?" A voice so familiar, yet foreign to her, spoke from behind her. She stood, still looking forward, and nodded.

"Yes." She sighed. She really needed to stop her imagination from running wild. Now she was talking back to herself. She looked down; she really wished that her father was actually there to say those words that she thought she had heard. Anger and resentment sprang up when she thought of Bruce Wayne. He had done this, he had let her father die. Two shadows were with her, so she stayed strong and converted her sadness to fury. Her hands shook as they formed into fists. She would take down Wayne someday.

"Talia?" Now the voice in her head was getting annoying. She couldn't believe that she was letting her imagination run wild. She thought she had more control over her thoughts. "Turn around."

'_No.'_ Talia felt like shaking her head. She wouldn't fall for that again. She would just turn around, having fallen for the tricks that her mind was playing. She couldn't go through that, not again. She couldn't go through the many sleepless nights grieving him. She used her crushing grief over his death to fuel her conquest to get revenge on the man who took her father's life. Now that she didn't have any purpose in the moment the nightmares would return. She dreaded those. Many nights she would wake up whimpering pathetically. She often posted the shadows several doors down from where she slept so they wouldn't hear her frantic cries for her long dead mother, and her recently deceased father. That would make her look weak. She was strong, she would not falter… she hoped.

"It's really me." Talia shook her head and didn't turn. '_No, no, no'_ She told herself again and again. '_Don't let the nightmares begin again._' She stubbornly thought. She refused to budge from her position. Something from behind her walked up. She still didn't turn. She was imagining it all. The voice spoke in her ear. "I haven't left you."

Just then the person put his big hand on her shoulder, and she turned to see a face that she hadn't seen in two years. She felt her heart stop as she stared at him, whole and alive. She stood there for what seemed hours staring at that face, and finally touched it to see if he was real.

"Father?" She spoke again giving into this realistic phantom. At the moment she embraced him, not wanting him to disappear like he had before. She wanted to enjoy the moment while it lasted. He just stroked her hair as she let a small trickle of tears fall.

Normally she wouldn't dare cry in front of anyone, but this mirage was too much for her, too real for her to control. It was so strong that she spent the entire evening with him. He didn't say much. In the night she thought long and hard, never closing her tired eyes. She did not want to wake up and find out it had all been a dream again. Thoughts of the ghost she had seen tormented her mind until dawn. When she got up, and left her temporary room she saw him again in the morning. She wasn't surprised to see him. Sometimes if she found herself grieving she would imagine he was there for a day or two. She figured he would disappear at any moment, leaving her to feel sad and empty. All day his image would only look at her with a sad and weary expression.

It took her days to realize that he was not a hallucination. On the fourth day of staying in the monastery, when she had finally admitted to herself that he was real, and to him that she believed he was really there, he began to speak to her freely as he had always done before. He began to speak with her, slowly luring out the details about the battle in Gotham. She did not wish to speak of those things, because her anger over it all was still fresh. He didn't stop asking about it though.

One day she bitterly told him all the details of her defeat, and he listened. He seemed to be intrigued with all that she was saying. At the end, when everything was explained in full detail, he paused, and eventually stood up from where he had been sitting.

"Where are you going?" She asked a bit panicked; hoping he wouldn't disappear.

"We have work to do." He spoke with resolve, and motioned for her and the other shadows to follow him.

_The present…_

She held her position in the darkness of the rafters listening for any sound that didn't come from her. Only once did she hear the faint shuffling of fabric. The monastery was almost completely repaired from its old damage. He had done a good job. The walls no longer had holes in them, and the snow never fell through the ceiling anymore. She appreciated that, having to live there wasn't easy. She perked her head up. Was that a noise?-No, no it was merely the frozen wind outside picking up. She closed her eyes so nothing could distract her. He had said that she needed to work on staying still and becoming one with the darkness. The chilly air kept her skin cool, as did the shadows she waited in.

Her electrified blue eyes opened as she heard another noise on the floor. Her body tensed and she squirmed slightly in her spot. Becoming invisible was a matter of patience. Something that he said she needed to work on as well. She desperately wanted to jump out and attack, but he had told her to wait until she had a full view of the enemy before doing so. One could not leap blindly on something not seen. So she heeded to his words and waited, no matter how irritating it was. A grey rat scurried across the floor, and she let out a soundless breath. Good thing she had waited, otherwise she would've exposed herself for a dumb rodent.

Just then the shadows were disturbed for a split second on the other side of the room. She tried to get a clear view of the other presence. She got a very dim outline, wondering how the ninja had gotten there. How long had he been waiting for her? To her relief the shadow didn't seem to notice she was there. She saw a chance, and crept closer, climbing above on the rafters. One thing good about being the only girl there was that she was the lightest, therefore the quietest on her feet. She walked so that she was directly above him, while he crouched in the darkness, oblivious to her. She smirked, and tightened the bladed gauntlets on her forearms, while getting into a squatting position. In one swift fluid moment she swung from the rafter and kicked the shadow's back and landed on the floor with a loud thud. Before the other ninja could react she drew a sword, and held it to the fighter's throat.

"Yield." She spoke, making sure that the shadow had no escape.

"Very good Talia." Came another voice from the other end of the room. He stepped into the sunlight that leaked in the dreary room. "You are becoming a true member."

She still couldn't believe that he was alive and standing in the flesh before him. Ras Al Ghul was standing from where he had been sitting. When she had first heard his voice behind her, she had believed that she was daydreaming like she had before. She had always thought that he had never really left her alone in the world; that he was alive, in her memories. But now Ras Al Ghul was with her, and no one would take him from her again.

"Thank you father." She sheathed her sword, and approached her father. He motioned for her to follow him, and they strolled out to a balcony, overlooking big glaciers. They often conversed after training. Now that it had been several months since his reappearance, and talking to him was much easier than before. It was just like before Wayne messed up their lives. The wind was biting, but Talia paid no mind. Ras put his hands on the wooden railing and seemed to be brooding. Talia noticed this. "What is it?"

"You are ready to go out." He spoke his mind seemed distant. Talia looked up at him in bewilderment.

"It's only been seven months, my training isn't complete." Talia spoke into the cold. She knew she wasn't ready for anything just yet.

"Training is nothing Talia, your will is everything." Ras spoke in a quiet voice.

"But that's not why I lost on Gotham Bay, I had a firm resolve." Talia spoke with a hint of anger.

"But you were distracted." Ras turned to face her, and she looked to the left of him. She knew he was right. Something Bruce had said, unhinged her, when he called her father a liar. "From what you told me, you had everything in your grasp, but something happened."

"He cancelled the upload while I was tethered." Talia spoke with contempt. "He physically outmatched me."

"But you escaped." Ras looked at her directly in the eyes, and she couldn't help but feel vulnerable. "I know something happened in that time span."

She sighed, and thought back to the last encounter that she had with Bruce Wayne. What he told her angered her to no end, but it compelled her at the same time.

"_I was there, but as the train went down, I decided not to extend my hand to save him again."_

"_Again?" Talia asked in rage._

"_I saved him from the first fire Talia, but I learned of his true intent for Gotham, and the nature of my parent's death, I could not save him a second time." Bruce replied calmly._

"_Your parent's were murdered by a common thief…" Talia spoke in a quieter voice._

"_He told me…that it was him." Bruce looked into Talia's blue eyes which seemed more curious. "We both have been lied to. Ras Al Ghul deceived you. He did not try to serve true justice. He murdered innocent lives to get to destroy Gotham and was going to do away with more lives."_

There was no denying it, they murdered plenty of people to get their will done, but it had all been for a greater cause. True justice could only be served one way in the League of Shadows. The words that got her were how he said that her own father had deceived her. Yes, he did trick her. He sent her away when a new student came, he had told her that she would be able to come home soon, and he had feigned his death for over two years. He kept it all a secret, even from her. But this was for her own good, right?

Ras Al Ghul saw that she wasn't going to speak about what had happened, and turned to gaze out to the horizon again. She hated to keep secrets from her father, but she found that she didn't want to tell him what her weakness had been.

"I think I got angry with him." Talia spoke, telling him the half truth. Yes, she had gotten angry with Wayne and attacked him without thinking, but his words had also set off a warning in her brain. A warning against her father. Ras looked at her and nodded.

"Anger is a powerful thing. It can be used to do great things, but if you let it, it will destroy you." Ras Al Ghul stated, and Talia nodded. She knew what had happened to her mother, and what Ras had done to the people who took her. She remembered him when he had enmity for those people, and when he finally avenged her mother.

"I think my anger will get in the way again." Talia voiced her worries.

"No; you have become more patient over the months. The progress you've made is big." Ras spoke, and Talia couldn't help but feel a touch of pride when he said these words.

"I am still at a lot of disadvantages." Talia frowned as she remembered some of her mistakes from her previous visit in Gotham.

"Nevertheless, despite them, you are ready for the encounter." Ras spoke into the thickened silence. She looked at him with a curious expression.

"How do you know?" Talia asked uncertainly.

"I can tell that your defeat has made you stronger Talia. You think with certain intensity that I remember in one of my better students." Ras spoke, and she nodded knowing who that better student had been.

"How will we make our appearance?" She asked in a low voice.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I have it all ready." Ras motioned for them to go back inside. It was getting colder as the sun sunk over the horizon. "First we need some power in the Gotham underworld."

"How do you plan to do that with our reputation?" Talia asked remembering how she had to go undercover as a French, named Drew Armande. She had lived in France for sometime after leaving her home so she was able to pick up an accent. Now that they knew what she looked like, and what the name Ras Al Ghul meant, it would not be easy to gain the upper hand in that level.

"I have a way. Alberto Falcone is our target; he has the most power there." Ras sat down on a mat, and Talia seated herself next to him.

"Falcone? He'll definitely know what we did. He'll never join." Talia spoke with skepticism, arching an eyebrow.

"I think he will, if I have something important to him." Ras Al Ghul spoke and looked Talia in the eyes with resolved certainty.

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><p><strong>AN:** Yeah I'm alive, I've just been extremely busy for the last couple of weeks. I hope this chapter wasnt' too bad. I thought that I would switch over to Talia's POV to see what she was up to. How do you feel about Ras Al Ghul being alive? I hope I'm not overstepping the boundaries on this story. Please tell me what you think. I hoped you liked it, and thanks for taking the time to read it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Misconception**

Chapter 7:

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><p><em><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>  
><em>

_I do not own anything Batman related._

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><p>He was going to send his family to Chicago. They had to get out of Gotham City, and away from the killer that had targeted one of his family members. They shouldn't live in fear because of his high ranking position, and his enemies that he had gained over the years up to the present. He alone sure had plenty of threats as the commissioner, but when his enemies came after his loved ones, that was when he would take extreme precautions. He made the mistake of not sending them away when the three mobsters laid an attack on Gotham months earlier. He let his family remain in Gotham when there was danger, and because of his new position he didn't have the time to watch them like a hawk.<p>

He had ensured their safety at one time, once, when he pretended he was dead so that the Joker wouldn't think to go after his family, and even though the maniac hadn't targeted them specifically, he didn't want to take any chances. But now, he had nothing to protect them with, except to distance them from the potential danger at hand.

Now that the homicidal maniac had almost killed his son, he grew fearful. The only one that focused on killing them before had been Harvey Dent, and now that some new person was chasing after them he felt just as helpless as he had felt then. His wife, daughter, and son were in danger of losing their lives. He grew fearful thinking about it. He had already once lived through the torment of believing that his family was dead once, but to know for certain would crush him. They had to get out. He would stay and fight until Falcone and the killer were brought in.

All he wanted was a peaceful Gotham that his family could live in without fear of getting killed in the streets. They had peace, but it only lasted so long. Why was it so hard for people to do the right thing? He was glad he could fight alongside his uncorrupted cops, Stephens and Blake, and also the dark knight.

He still didn't know what to make of finding out that the vigilante was indeed Bruce Wayne, and quite honestly, he didn't think about it that much. He still saw Batman as Batman, after getting over the initial shock that the hero was a billionaire playboy. He honestly didn't care either. Finding out the identity of the dark knight hadn't changed his opinion of him, but it sure threw him off at first. He hadn't had much time to contemplate it after finding out, what with trying to find the mob lords soon after. It had made him confused but he was then able understand the vigilante's motives behind his crime fighting.

He was doing it for his deceased parents. Once he found out the connection with the frightened boy in the police station to Gotham's vigilante he understood. He didn't understand _everything_, but at least he knew that Batman's motives were good for sure. He never thought that he would turn on them, but he might have believed that the Batman was only doing this for glory, until he took on that sacrifice several months before. Then when he later found out his identity, he knew that the vigilante was doing this for people he cared about. He was doing it all for the city.

Too bad that Gotham's finest were after him. Just after things had settled down, and people's anger had weakened, the Mayor decided to rally them up again. After the tense meeting, the politician went ahead and had a press conference, reminding all the citizens of Batman's crimes. He had done this to keep the citizens distracted from Falcone and the killer. Gordon inwardly groaned at the thought of having to keep his officers distracted so that the dark knight would be able to get away without bullets in his guts.

He was thinking all these things just as he heard and felt a low rumbling getting closer. It sounded like the Bat pod but it had to be something larger than that. A black tank crashed through the concrete barrier. _'So much for subtlety.'_ He thought, and walked over to the rumbling beast. He enjoyed looking at this monster that was the tumbler, but he thought he remembered seeing the tank go down in flames from a bazooka. The hatch slid back revealing his son, who was out cold. He exhaled in relief when he saw the boy unharmed, and without a word reached in for James. A moment later they were all standing outside the tank, Jimmy half awake. Gordon spoke the first question that came in his mind.

"What happened?" Gordon listened as the dark knight relayed the information. His fear only worsened, as he thought of the risks that they were all up against. "How do you know he didn't see who you were?"

Batman only stood there a moment; Gordon knew this was not good. He already knew what the vigilante was going to say. Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed. The Batman was already weighed down with huge responsibilities but now another problem was thrown onto his shoulders, and for the sake of his son's life.

"I don't, but what matters is that the boy is safe." Gordon couldn't help but nod in agreement. When it came to what was important, his family always came first to him, no matter what. Bruce probably thought the same -but wait… he didn't have one. He had close friends like…Gordon tried to through all the people that Bruce Wayne knew. The only one he knew was Rachel… Then it dawned on him. Was that why he was always so protective of that particular assistant DA? Gordon remembered clearly that the vigilante intended to go after her instead of Dent on that night. Did she know that he was Batman? Were they lovers? Did he really see obscured figure mourning over the rubbish of the fire in the dark of that early morning?

"Is there anything else Gordon?" Batman's gravelly voice broke his train of thought, and Gordon nodded, remembering that his friend was still standing there. He was brought back to the present, and he thought of what he was going to say. This would not be easy to convey, but sooner or later he would find out. '_Better sooner, and from my mouth…' _Gordon thought.

"The evidence against Falcone is gone." Gordon spoke gravely and the dark knight's eyes narrowed. "Falcone hired a professional to break in and steal it; it wasn't one of our own, so we have no idea where to start."

"I do." Batman growled, seeming to contemplate this. "I'll find different forensics for the DA."

Gordon thought of their new DA, Glen Mathews, he wasn't corrupt but he wasn't as dedicated as Harvey Dent had been for cleaning up the city. Before Harvey Dent could fish out his own evidence, but now him, Blake, and Batman were the ones who were bringing the evidence to the new DA. The thought made Gordon wish he could go back and stop all the madness from ever happening. Stop the reign of chaos that the Joker ensued. Batman started to climb into his tank, after the information was exchanged.

"Wait a moment." Gordon spoke and the dark knight turned to look at him from atop of the vehicle. Gordon spoke clearly so that he would understand that what he had to say was important. "This is just a word of caution; the mayor is stirring up the GCPD again. He wants to _inspire_ the officers to keep up hunt for you. No doubt he's trying to get extra votes from the people."

"As it should be." He stated grimly from the shadows above on the tank. This did not come as a surprise to either of them; nobody could just forget the murders of five people at the hands of a fugitive. Sooner or later people would get riled up again, and continue the endless cycle of hunting for the murderer. For a moment there was silence, but Gordon spoke again.

"I still don't approve." The commissioner murmured, and when the dark knight didn't reply he added. "By tomorrow night, most gunfire will be pointed in your direction."

He never liked this part of the job. He hated having to lead his officers to attack their dark hero, but if it was completely necessary he would do it for the good of the city. It was a mystery to him as to how the city was still standing and how they managed to have enough energy to face the events that each day bore.

"I'll be listening in my com link." He rasped and started to leave, disappearing completely inside the metal beast. Gordon looked down to his son who was practically sleeping while standing up. The kid was exhausted as it was, and Gordon himself was ready to call it a night. In actuality he was always tired, but the commissioner couldn't return home, he had so much more work to do.

"You've had a rough day." Gordon spoke to him and the boy only nodded sleepily as they made their way over to his car. Behind him the tank rumbled to life, and surged into the dark city.

* * *

><p>City life passed by quickly as his tank tore through the deserted alleyways and backwater streets. The Narrows nowadays was quiet, and still fearful. No light reached that part of town, as all the street lights either burned out, or were broken and shattered on the cracked pavement. The life here mimicked this broken part of the city. People were still poor, and crime was high in this part of town, but it had become less so since the arrival of the dark knight, and later Harvey Dent.<p>

The lab came into view, as he passed it to conceal the tumbler elsewhere. Finding a place to hide the tank was not an easy task, but it was easier to do so in the Narrows. Nowadays people were even more fearful of crossing paths with the dark knight so most would not dare bring attention to themselves by telling the police.

After successfully finding a place to hide it, he approached the lab. He looked for any alternative rout inside the building as there was a police car in the front. He didn't know how many officials were present. Before entering he put his hand to his cowl tuning into the conversation inside while he prowled in the dark on the building adjacent.

"_You sure this will work?"_ A voice, unmistakably Blake's, asked.

"_Yes, we gave these to the guards that were poisoned a couple days ago."_ A lab worker spoke.

"_Any side effects?"_ Blake inquired.

"_Aside from dizziness? No. No other side effects, although I can't be sure. It will have to be tested on many more subjects before we begin mass production."_

"_Well do it fast! Sooner or later it will get out that theirs yet another lunatic on the loose, and people will need this cure to ensure self security."_

"_Understood. I'll get this ready as soon as possible; shipments should arrive in two weeks."_

"_Thank you Dr. Elliot. You may go home now."_

He switched off the earpiece as he watched the lab doctor leave the building. Just then he watched as Gordon's unmarked cruiser pulled into the parking lot. Time to move in. He checked building before entering. The only people there was a secretary working late and Lieutenant Blake waiting for the commissioner. Batman crept through the back window, and waited for the young Lieutenant to notice him. When he didn't Batman spoke.

"You found the cure?" The dark knight spoke, and Blake only made a small jump. He was finally getting accustomed to his startling appearances. Blake set a paper down on the table, as he turned to Batman, a sarcastic gleam in his eye, while the rest of his face was deadpan.

"Yep." Blake motioned to nothing in particular. "I heard therapy is available for berserk loonies like you."

"Lieutenant." Gordon just walked in with coffee, a hint of a warning in his voice. Blake just feigned innocence, while Batman resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The commissioner sighed and faced both of them.

"The antitoxin Blake." The dark knight chose to ignore the previous comment. Blake motioned to the cabinets where they were most likely hidden.

"In there. Production should occur in a week, and shipments expected in two weeks." Blake stated, and glanced at the papers he was holding, and handed them to Gordon who looked at the documents analyzing them carefully. "The doctor also got the reaction the guards had to the poison."

"It works like cyanide, keeping oxygen from getting to red blood cells, and causing an adult victim to suffer slowly, with headaches and short breath." Gordon read aloud. "But not strong enough to cause the death of a healthy adult."

"Where would the killer have access to poisons like these?" Blake asked. "One of the lab workers said that these were not common ingredients."

"It'd have to be someone with good income to pay for some of these toxins." Gordon flipped through the charts. "I've seen murderers like these before; they just kill for sick pleasures and fame."

"But why would he just show up, kill, and not leave behind a show?"

"Because," the dark knight glanced at Gordon. "He's not a thoughtless murderer; he kills for a reason."

* * *

><p>"The evidence has been disposed of." The dark killer stood in front of Falcone's desk, as the young mob boss lounged in his chair with suspicion written all over his features. It had been a huge relief to the crime lord that he was finally out of deep water, but this was just too easy.<p>

"How do I know you aren't just storing it to use against me?" Falcone propped his feet up on his desk, putting up a calm façade.

"If I were to blackmail you, I would have done so already." The killer hissed ominously and Falcone put up his hands in defeat. The murderer walked over to a window overlooking the slum side of Gotham.

"And what do I owe for this little favor?" Falcone inquired quickly, knowing there was a catch. The murderer seemed to gain some self control after a moment, but didn't turn around.

"Unlimited supplies of drugs and other contraband items." The assassin answered quietly, while Falcone looked at the murderer with an expression of disbelief.

"You must be crazy." Falcone deadpanned, and the killer seethed.

"Are you asking for a death wish?" The dark figure turned around; the killer's eyes were murderous.

"No, but you are. Police have been on my tail for months. If you want imports, you get them off my case. You already failed to do so by letting commissioner's kid live."

"I was contradicted." The dark figure spoke venomously.

"You have yet to tell me how." Falcone looked at the murderer impatiently.

"There is always another chance." The killer redirected the conversation.

"No. I know the commissioner, and he's probably sending his whole family into hiding by now. There is no way we are getting shipments anytime soon." Falcone answered turning his back to the assassin, and there was a hiatus of silence in the darkened room.

"Not unless we have help… from affluent sources…" The murderer replied quietly, and before Falcone could question him, he was gone.

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><p><strong>AN:** I am such a terrible person. I barely have an excuse for not updating for such a long time. I can say I had exams, but that would've only delayed me shortly if I had been faithfully writing. I give you my deepest apologies for the extended delay. Like or dislike? I know this is short, but I just had to get to Gordon's POV in the story. In addition I went back and edited chapter two a little bit, but nothing major has been changed. Also, I just gave you a hint on who the killer was. Can you guess who it is? Please tell me what you think. Again, I am sorry. I will try not to delay you for the next update; I intend to finish this story.


	8. Chapter 8

**Misconception**

Chapter 8:

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong>

_I do not own anything Batman related._

* * *

><p>"Find anything suspicious?" Bruce asked looking over Fox's shoulder as he analyzed the antitoxin. His CEO examined the sample carefully through a lens. After a moment Fox shook his head, and turned around to face his boss.<p>

"No. The chemicals in this antidote are legal, and not harmful." His CEO replied, taking off his glasses, and standing up. "These were the original samples correct?"

"Yeah." Bruce nodded in affirmation as he and Fox walked down the hallway in the Applied Sciences division, as other employees floors above them, finished up working for the day. He wanted to make sure that the medicine was safe, considering that it hadn't been made by someone he trusted. After finding that the antitoxin was ready and in mass production, he and Gordon had discovered that the doctor that had developed this was an employee of Falstaff. That had sent warning bells off in his mind. After that revelation, Blake of course had been inquisitive, and Gordon mentioned the suspicions they had of the hefty businessman.

"Are you still going to that party?" Fox asked after a moment, and Bruce sighed. Falstaff's party was not going to be a breeze, but he needed to keep up his billionaire playboy façade, and do some other undercover work.

"Yeah, I need a closer look at his… other business." He replied, and Fox nodded. Normally he'd go searching for the forensics as Batman, but Falstaff's criminal acts wouldn't be hidden in a safe in his office, no, he'd checked several weeks previous, it would most likely be hidden in a secret bunker or hidden safe which he couldn't seem to locate. If he could get Falstaff to slip a word, or give something away, he'd find the evidence, and connect the meddlesome businessman with Falcone. From there they could fight against the mob lord more easily. Plus Alfred didn't want him taking unnecessary risks as Batman, well he wouldn't be there as the dark knight, he'd be going as Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, and Prince of Gotham, no one would suspect him if he were searching through things nosily. The plan was almost foolproof. Almost.

"I hope that you don't run into any problems…" Fox commented, and Bruce inwardly groaned, running a hand through his hair. After Gordon told Blake of his suspicions, the Lieutenant had been very insistent of going to the New Year's Party that the businessman was hosting to see if there were any shady characters that he could fish out. Gordon didn't protest, this was a lead for the Lieutenant's case, and he didn't know that Bruce would be attending and looking for evidence too.

"There will be." Bruce stated suddenly looking tired. At Fox's raised eyebrow he added, "Stephens and Blake."

"Oh..." Fox glanced at Bruce in pity, as they got into the elevator.

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><p>Falcone hadn't heard from the creepy assassin since the night before, and their last conversation had left him very bewildered. What did he mean by getting rich sources to help them? What wealthy person in their right mind would want to partner up with them? The Commissioner had hunted down many mobsters through their patrons easily, and he wanted to be the exception, not the rule. No ties to anyone would be a good idea at the beginning of this crime family's growth. Gaining allies came after a family became stronger and held more sway over the city. Apparently the killer had someone in mind, and disappeared out of nowhere before he could say anything.<p>

Well he'd had enough of the monster just coming and going as he pleased, this time he'd meet with him on his own time. He would not just let some loco barge into his place, and assume leadership. He'd not be like those other mobster fools who had outside influences ruin their businesses. As he drove the old gothic building came into view.

This was where he had first come face to face with the murderer; it still gave him the chills coming to this place. He'd come wanting to show who was boss, but he couldn't pretend that the killer was not dangerous. The man had killed people of all ages, and he could very well fall into that category if he said something wrong. He opened the door of his car and approached the structure. The thought of dying in the rotting dark building was disturbing. What was more disconcerting was that he'd come alone, but really, he couldn't afford to lose another body guard. They didn't come cheap.

He pushed past the doors, and walked into the dimly lit building. Instead of coming in the late night like he had done before, he decided to arrive when the sun was still up. Not that it mattered anyway. The place was still cast under a heavy shadow. Light in this place seemed to have no meaning. Every possible place that light could come in was boarded up, or covered in weeds. As he walked in the musty domain he felt something was off. Last time he'd been there had been shuffling, and whispers echoing through the chambers, but this time… this time it was dead silent. The only sound he heard was his own heart beat. He didn't know how, but the place seemed even more ominous than it had before.

"Hello…? Is anybody here?" He called out and his voice just echoed back to him. He stepped back. He'd just had about enough of this place. He'd talk to the killer another day. Falcone turned to the open doors, when they suddenly closed on him, and he was cast into endless darkness.

"We've been waiting for you." A clear male voice spoke through the dark. This did not sound like the assassin he'd been talking to on several occasions.

"Who are you?" He called out, his voice didn't falter. There was no noise, but when the thing spoke it was closer to him.

"Who I am is of no consequence. I am merely a shadow here to serve a greater purpose." The voice was calm and cool.

"Yeah, but what do you want from me?" Falcone put up a bored face. Even if it was too dark, putting up his calm demeanor made him feel more collected inside.

"You will do something for me." The voice spoke boldly. "I want you to offer your services."

"Oh no, I don't work for causes or 'for the greater good' loonies. I think we all know what happened last time a mob lord did that." Falcone shuddered at a memory of seeing the elder Falcone muttering in insanity when he had visited the Asylum.

"Oh I think this is a deal you can't refuse." The voice spoke without losing strength. "You see, I have something of yours that you will not want to lose."

"What did you do?" Falcone spoke his blood running cold; he was losing money fast as it was, he couldn't afford to lose more. The voice laughed darkly.

"Nothing. I just happened to find it; or rather it found its way to me. Something that a businessman named… Lau was transferring somewhere…safe…" The shadow spoke again, and a memory sprang up in Falcone's memory.

He had heard about this patron of the Falcone crime family and several other crime families, and he saw Maroni's image in his mind. Maroni had mentioned something about all their pooled in money being taken somewhere no one could seem to locate. It probably had been all over the world, constantly being transferred to keep it safe. Well half of the money anyway. The Joker had already taken the other half... and burned it.

"How…?" Falcone asked. How could have their money have fallen into the hands of yet another lunatic? Maybe he shouldn't have come back to Gotham… but if he happened to get his money back, then he would have more of a chance to thrive in Gotham's underworld. He would become as successful as former mobsters before him had done. Gotham would once again be the prosperous city for crime doers and he would be at the top. This could be his chance to change everything. Finally he relented. "What do you want me to do?"

* * *

><p>Bruce stepped out of his silver Lamborghini with a date on each arm walking towards a skyscraper that Falstaff owned. He could see all the lights on the top floor lit brightly. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a police cruiser parked and let out a quiet breath in silent irritation. The New Year's Eve sky was clear; it was such a rare thing in the mostly smoggy Gotham.<p>

Once inside on the top floor he let his dates wonder off, and scanned the room for Falstaff. The man wasn't anywhere to be seen, but he did spot Blake standing by the door posing as a regular security officer, and Detective Stephens as one of the party goers. They blended in fairly well. Bruce continued to mind his surroundings when he caught a person scrutinizing him from the distance. He looked back at the person and they seemed startled to be caught, and approached him.

"Sorry 'bout my staring," The man apologized with an easy smile, while pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You just happened to look familiar. Have we met before?"

"No, I don't think so." Bruce said trying to dismiss himself subtly. He really didn't have time to mingle, and couldn't afford to take his eyes off Falstaff.

"No, no I'm not a stalker. I just happen to have a bad habit of gaping at strangers." The fair haired man chuckled and drank his champagne. Bruce smiled politely, while inwardly sighing in frustration. "Do you work for ol' Falstaff?"

"No, I own my own Enterprise here in Gotham city." Bruce stated, feigning pride, as he backed away trying to cut the chatter.

"Oh now I recognize you… you're that billionaire… Bruce Wayne." The man nodded smugly, as Bruce put up a half smile. '_This guy didn't take a hint…'_ "I'm Dr. Thomas Elliot. I'm new to Gotham."

This caught Bruce's interest.

"A doctor? What would you be doing in a company like Falstaff's?" Bruce inquired, and the doctor's eyes lit up instantly.

"Oh top secret stuff." The doctor answered easily. '_This guy is a canary.' _If he could just get more information out of the doctor…

"Is it business or is it just something that the upholders of the law shouldn't know?" Bruce asked, hoping to get a reaction. The doctor didn't even blink. Before he could answer he was interrupted.

"Elliot!" A voice called from across the room. Bruce looked up to see Falstaff calling to the doctor.

"Coming sir!" The doctor called attentively, and then turned to Bruce. "Nice meeting you Mr. Wayne."

So much for a chance to get at Falstaff.

Bruce watched as Falstaff whispered something to Elliot, and a moment later the doctor scurried out the door hurriedly. Bruce stood next to the Brazilian celebrity as he tuned in and out of his pseudo conversation. With Blake and Stephens there he had to be extremely careful not to look suspicious in anyway. One fatal move and his operation could turn for the worse. He wouldn't allow anything to slip; he would keep his guard up. Blake, he knew, was extremely intelligent, and would notice small slip ups like that.

That was why he couldn't be seen talking to Falstaff secretly, otherwise he'd be under police watch again. Not a year ago he had been monitored for his own safety from mobsters. He'd learned his lesson not to underestimate Blake when it came to how serious he was about serving Gotham. Blake was a beat cop, a rare loyal law enforcer, and Bruce knew that he'd do anything to keep the city from harm, and if that meant investigating undercover during a function, he would do it.

He watched Falstaff saunter across the room with his posse of rich acquaintances. Stephens was talking to other party-goers while Blake inconspicuously studied the suspicious businessman. Bruce himself took a look at Falstaff's friends and realized they had abnormal, yet fairly concealed, bulges on their jackets. It took a trained eye to realize that they were withholding guns, and that these "friends", were rather body guards flanking Falstaff. Blake noticed this too, probably at the same moment, and narrowed his eyes.

"Isn't that right Bruce?" One of his dates asked and he zoned in the conversation again. Bruce put on a smile.

"Hmm?" The celebrity repeated the question and he answered airily. By the time he had looked dup again Falstaff wasn't standing across the room like before.

He found Stephens by the bar drinking while talking; blending in with the crowed. When he glanced at Blake again he found the man staring directly at him, before the Lieutenant glanced beside Bruce and back at him. Bruce then turned slowly to see the hefty businessman approaching him, with all his people in tow. Bruce turned to look another way as he tried to inch away from Falstaff and Blake unnoticed. Hopefully Falstaff hadn't spotted him yet.

"Wayne!" But then again, he was never _that_ lucky.

He turned to face the businessman warily. Falstaff smiled falsely while shaking Bruce's hand in an overly vigorous manner.

"Glad you could make it. How's the party?" Falstaff inquired, a little more interested than he should have been. Bruce plastered a smile anyway.

"Splendid; great company, good booze, everything is good." Bruce replied casually while trying to seem nonchalant in the eyes of Blake. Falstaff's eyebrows shot up, and one of his "friends" nodded to him.

"Did you say 'good' booze? Well you are in for a treat Wayne." Falstaff replied all too cheerfully.

This was disconcerting.

"This sounds engaging." Bruce spoke flatly, and Falstaff's grin grew wider.

"As you know my company is a manufacturer for many things." Falstaff glanced out a large window overlooking the city. Bruce took that chance to glance where Blake was standing, only to see him absent. "We also sell some of the oldest vintage wines in America."

"Is that right?" Bruce couldn't see either law enforcer.

"Yes. Now I know that our companies have never been friendly." Bruce looked back to Falstaff, and at the same moment the businessman looked at Bruce. "That's why I think we should organize a compromise. And what better time to do it than before the New Year?"

"I'd be happy to work out a compromise Greg." Bruce replied while feigning drinking his champagne. Falstaff didn't seem to mind the nickname as he smiled with a vile gleam in his eye.

"Meet in the conference room at 11 p.m." Falstaff left, and so did his entourage.

* * *

><p>The killer stood away from the street light as he held up a small device to his ear. His black trench coat concealed him in the darkness, as he finished up a call. He adjusted his two pistols with silencers attached to them. Pedestrians didn't notice him lurking in the shadows with his deadly weapons.<p>

"It will be done." The assassin hissed into the device and clicked it off, concealing it in his jacket. He looked around ominously from behind his mask, trying to locate something. The murderer then detected his prey, and set out in pursuit of it.

* * *

><p>Falstaff led him to the conference room, after saying he had been making an important call. They passed through the wooden doors and into the room. Bruce noticed that Falstaff's bodyguards weren't near him anymore. They seated themselves at the table.<p>

"Now for the champagne." Falstaff poured two glasses of the alcohol, handed a glass to Bruce, and motioned for him to drink it. Falstaff wasn't even trying to drink his own glass. He was too busy watching Bruce intently with his. A sure sign that whatever was in the beverage, it wasn't something that should be drunk. Bruce made the motion of drinking before he paused.

"Wait," Bruce spoke and Falstaff looked bewildered for the first time that night. "Shouldn't we go outside to drink this? To let the wine breathe?"

"Of course." Falstaff nodded brightening instantly. When Falstaff's back was turned to walk out the door, Bruce quickly dipped his fingers in the drink to smell it briefly.

Bromide. Nothing particularly harmful, but could be deadly if a victim was in the wrong hands. A sedative would give Falstaff the power to have Bruce make irrational decisions that could ultimately decimate his company. Falstaff turned to Bruce and held his glass up. One way or another Bruce was stuck. He had three options: He'd have to drink the wine, drop it accidentally or feign being disoriented until the coast was clear. The first he ruled out immediately. If he dropped the glass, Falstaff would just pour another, so two was out of question. The third option seemed the best, as he would be in control, no matter how he had to behave.

"To Wayne Enterprises, and Falstaff Co's unification." Falstaff declared, looking away for a split moment. That moment was all he needed as he tossed most of the contents of his glass over the edge of the building. Bruce had seen the effects of a sedative before, and knew what they did to mar the target's senses. When Falstaff looked over to Bruce, he swayed slightly as if he had taken a sip of the drink. "You don't look so good Wayne, perhaps you should sit down."

"Actually," Bruce replied gripping the railing. "I'd like to know where washrooms are."

"Really there's no need-" Falstaff paused in midsentence when Falstaff's phone rang, and he growled quietly after reading the caller ID. "Down the hall on your left."

As soon as Bruce was down the hall, he watched around the corner, hiding behind an ornate vase. Falstaff left the conference room phone on his ear. The timing was perfect. Bruce pursued after Falstaff, stealthily creeping down the hallway when the businessman's back was turned. Falstaff continued on before pausing at the door of his office.

"You sure this will work-?" The door swung open and the businessman entered; Bruce right behind him. The office was spacious and offered many places to disappear. Bruce chose to conceal himself behind a pillar. "No, no, I'll make sure he thinks that he agreed willingly."

Falstaff spoke into the phone confidently. This was only slightly disturbing. He had known Falstaff was up to something from the start, and it seemed he still wanted to snatch the lab that Wayne Enterprises still owned. Bruce peered around the support to see Falstaff at his desk fumbling through papers.

"Yes I have the contract." Falstaff motioned in the air. "Oh… you mean _that_ contract…"

The businessman glanced nervously around. What was that supposed to mean? Bruce shifted so he could get a better look at what the man was doing. Whatever it was, it seemed to make him nervous. He knew he was getting warmer.

"With all the guests here?" Falstaff asked anxiously, running a hand through his hair. Bruce new he'd struck gold. The next question caught Bruce off guard. "You're right. After it's signed, what do I do with him?"

Falstaff nervously awaited an answer as he reached down, and pressed on something attached to his desk. A tile on the wall slid back revealing a hidden room and Falstaff walked through. "You want me… to dispose of-?"

Falstaff was cut off as the tile slid back into place. Bruce found this unnerving. Not only was Falstaff willing to do illegal things to get what he wanted, he also seemed prepared to snuff out any lives that got in his way. Several seconds passed before he finally stood from his hiding place and approached the desk in question. He glanced around before crouching down to examine the piece of furniture. It was hard to find the switch under all the papers. For one so clever, Falstaff was very unorganized. The button or latch had to be somewhere… As Bruce inspected the desk the door behind him whipped open. With his quick reflexes he had just enough time to swiftly hide underneath the desk. Not the best hiding place.

"I told you detective, the cameras were already down when I got there." Blake's voice came in a whisper. Bruce inwardly groaned. Of course it was Blake.

"I know… but how?" Stephens spoke softly.

"Perhaps there was a glitch, or someone forgot to turn them on. Who knows? That doesn't matter now. First we need to investigate here, and get out quickly." Blake spoke quietly. Bruce smiled faintly, resetting the camera surveillance times hadn't been _that_ hard. Bruce heard their footsteps approach the desk he was hiding under and pushed himself further into darkness. Bruce never felt more trapped. Blake spoke in a low voice. "Stephens! I think I found something!"

"Jeez! This guy wants this from Wayne? Look at the money he's paying for it!" Stephens whispered, now closer to the desk.

"I know Detective. This needs to be put on record right away. Wayne must not be willing to sell that lab if Falstaff is ready to pay that sum for it." '_Very perceptive Blake.'_ He thought approvingly. There was silence as they read the paper when suddenly Bruce heard the sound of the hidden door grinding open. Blake muttered obscenities under his breath.

Stephens scrambled away from the desk, while Blake quickly crouched behind the desk. Bruce could see Blake completely in front of him: frozen, holding his breath, and keeping a stone-like face. If Blake happened to glance his way, his cover would be blown completely, but Blake never so much as looked his way. Instead he watched something that Bruce couldn't see. Several long minutes passed as Falstaff could be heard talking on the phone.

"Use my hired help to do it? I know I don't need him after he signs it… but why now?" Falstaff snatched the contract off the desk and his voice could be heard fading away as he left the office. Blake stood, and Bruce heard Stephens approach from across the room.

"That was close." The detective commented, Blake nodded, and moved. In that moment his foot bumped into Bruce's knee, and the Lieutenant paused for a few seconds, blinking in surprise.

"You okay Blake?" Stephens asked. There was a hiatus, but Blake didn't even look down; instead he focused again on the detective.

"Yeah I'm fine. We can't linger. You heard what was going to happen to Wayne. We need to get to him before Falstaff does." With that they left quickly and quietly. Bruce finally allowed himself to breathe, and momentarily close his eyes in relief. When he reopened them he could see the latch that Falstaff had pulled. He would come for that later in the night. Falstaff probably had the evidence in his possession anyway. For now, people would be wondering where Bruce Wayne was.

Bruce knew better than to go through the same door that the cops and Falstaff went. Instead he took note of the window he could easily climb through. Within moments he was climbing through the window in the washroom. He quietly moved to the door, pressing his ear to it. Down the hall he heard the voices of Falstaff's men. Judging by their footsteps he guessed there were two of them. This would be too easy; they would never know what hit them.

"Falstaff just asked us to find him, before he passes out." A man spoke in a regular tone.

"And after he signs the thing we were supposed to make sure he's not seen by the-" Both men fell knocked out cold as the door swung open hitting them hard enough to give them nasty headaches when they woke up. He smirked, before turning away to return before he was missed.

Bruce walked back into the party room, making sure he was seen by everyone, save Blake and Stephens. Suddenly he felt tired, he'd got what he'd come for, and was ready for this long night to end. The partiers shouted the countdown, and cheered loudly as the New Year came. Fireworks over Gotham Bay exploded, and many of the couples kissed passionately, celebrating another year of life with each other, and something inside him began to hurt. His smile faltered as he remembered her. He sighed, he'd promised himself he would try to move on, but sometimes couldn't help it. He tried not to think of her, but when he did it was always when he was reminded of her in some way. This was his first New Year without her. Suddenly the rest of his lifetime seemed empty without her. There would be many years that would come and go without her there.

"Happy New Year Rachel." He whispered quietly, before slipping away from the crowds.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hey sorry for the delay. Tell me what you think. Has anybody seen The Dark Knight Rises? I have, and it is awesome! You should go see it! :) I hope that all my readers will stay interested in this story, even if the movie came out. If some of the characters seem OC please tell me. I think that's all I have to say… thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

**Misconception**

Chapter 9:

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><p>Disclaimer: I don't own Batman...<p>

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><p>This target had been picked easily, as he waited outside the stadium as families came back from watching the first football game of the season, with their home players, the Gotham Rogues. Many of the people went to their cars that were parked right next to the stadium, but since it was a busy January night, some families had to go many blocks before they got to their cars. They walked vulnerably through the darkened alleys and streets. He knew when he would find the right targets. He'd found the happiest, most content family, and then he'd shown them an ugly side of life. The killer injected the paralyzing liquid into his next victim's small, frail body. The father had begged, he had pleaded, he had cried. The assassin found his blubbering satisfying. The man had been totally helpless as he watched his wife fall, bullet in her heart, dead before she hit the cold, snow-covered pavement. The man had been bound as the woman stood in front of her son protectively. The murderer couldn't help but think how pathetic they looked.<p>

That made him grin.

Once the mother had been disposed of, he had grabbed the child's shirt collar and made sure he wouldn't escape. The father's expression had been that of a man knowing what he had lost, and what he was about to lose. It was ludicrous to the assassin how the man made a desperate attempt to distract him while he told the kid to run, and he was killed on the spot for even trying. Now here he was slowly injecting the toxin inside the child's blood.

"Say good night to him." The killer had whispered in a disturbingly gentle voice. The child looked up at him in terror, but said nothing as tears formed in his eyes, and then he looked at his dead father. The killer leaned down, dark eyes boring into the child's eyes; the bloody gauze smelling of corpses. His expression changed, his voice scratchy and deep as he hummed an old lullaby.

"Papa…" The child whimpered, tears forming in his eyes, as he kept his eyes on the killer. The murderer seemed to settle down. The child became paralyzed as he quickly fell. The murderer leaned down, and the child was forced to look upon him.

"Sleep will come little one. The cradle is waiting for you."

* * *

><p>Bruce Wayne returned from the party, and laid his coat on the back of a sofa in one of the parlors. He was both physically and emotionally taxed from the events at Falstaff's party. Alfred came in the room with a grim expression, and Bruce glanced up with dread.<p>

"I think you should see this sir." Alfred stated and motioned for Bruce to follow him. As he entered the room, he could hear the sounds of a TV spitting out Gotham Tonight's news. An anchor was standing in front of an old and historical building with the microphone in her hand.

"It has just been reported that young Derrick Lennox is currently being held hostage inside this building behind me," she paused as the device in her ear relayed more information. "His parents have been found dead two blocks away. It seems that they were caught unawares as they left a football game tonight. For those of you who don't know who the Lennox family is, I will tell you of their goodness to the city of Gotham. They are well known for their building of community centers, and the Gotham football stadium that they were killed next to, this very night."

"How long has this been on the news?" Bruce turned to Alfred with the query.

"About an hour sir." Alfred reported, and Bruce felt there was more to this circumstance. The older man sighed, hating to be the bearer of bad news. "Before you came back, they reported that the man who killed the parents used the very same poison you've been researching. If I'm not mistaken, information about this killer's actions wasn't supposed to be in the hands of the media."

"It looks like it's too late for that." Bruce stated, his arms crossed. His face held deep thought. "This definitely changes things."

Without further comment, Bruce left the room and was headed for the caverns below the mansion. Alfred followed him, wanting to see him off, and add a few words before he left. The elevator ride down was quiet.

"If the people begin to panic, they'll be demanding protection." Bruce commented absently. "It's a good thing that Blake helped discover the cure ahead of time. We're going to need it."

Alfred nodded at his comment.

"I hope you are able to bring him in Master Wayne. If he's anything like the Joker, he'll be craving the limelight more and more." Alfred warned. "He's not made any ransom demands for the boy, which means he's saving him for his bigger message."

Bruce nodded grimly as he adjusted the gantlets on his arms. His thoughts were completely in sync with the older man's. He pulled the cowl over his head and activated the tumbler with a remote control. The tank roared to life as his expression switched to that of determination.

"Keep me updated." He opened the hatch of the tank, and sat down. Before the top closed, his voice came out low like the Batman's. "I'll try to stop the show before it can even begin."

* * *

><p>Gordon just got off the phone with Blake, who reported to him what he had learned at the businessman's party. Falstaff wasn't a good guy, and this night's events definitely backed that claim. Hopefully soon they'd be able to bring him in before he could do any damage. Just then, another call broke his thoughts. It was Blake again.<p>

"Hello again." Gordon responded with a frown.

"You'd better turn on the news Commissioner." Blake's voice stated grimly. Gordon went to his living room, and switched on the TV. His wife came behind him to watch as well. Gordon felt cold dread sink into his stomach. Now, more than ever, they didn't need Gotham in a panic.

"Where are you Lieutenant?" Gordon asked, after he found his voice. The boy's face was flashed on the screen, with the killer's voice in the background.

"I am on my way there. Stephens and I were called in shortly after we left Falstaff's party." Blake reported, and Gordon could hear the traffic noise in the background. It was a relief to know that some of his trusted men could go down to the scene immediately.

"I'll be on my way." Gordon responded, and saw his wife looking at the TV with a horrified expression. It was currently showing video feed of the boy completely paralyzed, except for his eyes. The maniac was off-screen, but his breathing could be heard. It was heavy and animalistic.

"Okay, I'll do what I can before you get there." Blake responded, and closed the phone. Gordon turned his expression to the screen once more. Nothing was happening at the moment, but Gordon finally noticed something that couldn't before getting off the phone.

The heavy breathing was lined with the occasional word from a lullaby.

* * *

><p>The building was accosted with floodlights and snipers aimed at the windows. People behind police lines were chattering, and some wailing. Reporters were in a continuous loop of the same information that they had relayed the hour before. The child of a rich family would not go unnoticed by the press. Batman's gaze zeroed in on the window that was not lit by the lights from below. Above, a helicopter circled the premises hoping to get a better view of the scene below. A few more cars pulled up, and Blake and Stephens rushed to the lines, showing their badges as they passed through.<p>

Inside the building, Batman could see the shadow of the killer moving back and forth, presumably pacing as he waited for his big moment. Hopefully that big moment would never come, seeing as that would upset the people more than it already had.

As he finally finished planning out his entrance, he began to make his move. Without a grapple, he descend the building by grabbing onto different embossed parts of architecture sticking out of the building. He quickly made good use of the unlit entry way, and kept himself from making a sound as he landed in the room. At the end of the hall, a doorway was lit from the floodlights gleaming through the window. His eyes found the shadow of something moving back and forth in an unnatural rhythm. He heard the soft whimpering of a child as he cautiously slid along the wall towards the door. He stopped breathing as he listened harder.

The child abruptly stopped whimpering, and gasped as something caught him off guard. Batman took a discreet glance inside only to see the very man he'd been trying to catch standing over the boy as he injected the poison into his bloodstream. Before the man got the chance to give a full dosage, he was roughly slammed against a wall by the tall, dark figure. The monster growled at him, his fierce and wild gaze centered on the Batman.

_Nothing_ came between him and his prey.

His breathing increased in strength, almost panting like a lion in a chase. Batman kept his gaze steady and calm. He analyzed his opponent with calculated thought, anticipating his next move like a lion about to pounce.

The killer wasn't the only one with a monster inside of him.

Without a warning the killer launched himself towards the Batman. He easily blocked his first strike, but didn't anticipate his next move which shoved him backward a few feet. So the killer wasn't completely useless in a fight. Batman stuck at the man who doubled over from the impact. The killer was almost backed up against the wall. Suddenly a loud gunshot blasted through the window, and caught the killer in the arm. The assassin's quick movement was the only thing that saved his life then and there. In an instant, a hard resolve came over the killer's eyes, the only visible part of his face, and he made a running jump out the window on the other side of the building where the police were stretched thin. Batman made to go after him, but remembered the child who was poisoned.

He lifted the terrified child, and left the way he entered as the police became distracted by the chaos that broke through the window from above them. He made a quick text to Gordon who was arriving at the scene.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Hostage safe. On Winston Street. Bring antidote.<strong>_

Gordon quickly put away his phone to make sure that nobody saw the message, and made his way to where his friend waited. Blake caught his eye, and approached. Gordon watched as the man hustled past all the reporters behind the police tape.

"What's the word?" He asked, getting straight to the point.

"The hostage is safe. Do you have the antidote?" Gordon asked, hoping the lieutenant had thought to bring it. He wasn't disappointed, as Blake showed him the small vial in his hand. Gordon motioned silently to Blake to follow him, and without a word, both men left the crowd as discreetly as they could. On the street, the boy rested in Batman's arms, and Blake went on ahead of Gordon as he prepared the antidote for injection.

Blake quickly made use of the antitoxin, and almost instantly the serum relaxed the boy. His eyes stopped rolling, and his body stopped convulsing. The boy let out a soft sigh, and his eyes began to focus once more. Batman handed the boy to Gordon, and moved away from the recovering patient.

"When they ask how you found him, say that he was found trying to make his escape when the killer jumped out the window." Batman ordered, and Blake's radio summoned him back to the scene. Moments later, he came back with a grim expression.

"Blake?" Gordon questioned, already knowing he'd dread the answer.

"The killer wasn't caught. He disappeared so quickly, that police didn't see him touch the ground." Blake responded dully, knowing the consequences of an escaped killer. Gordon swore.

"We do have one thing." Batman responded, and Blake stared at him with dull confusion. "A witness."

"He'll be devastated when he wakes up." Blake looked down on the child who passed out after all the shock. Blake's eyes held sympathy, knowing that the kid's life wouldn't be an easy one. To both Gordon and Blake's surprise, Batman spoke.

"He'll endure." Came the gravelly response. "He'll have to."

Blake was slightly bewildered, but Gordon understood.

* * *

><p><em><strong>HUSH – GOTHAM'S SECRET TERRORIST<strong>_

Bruce groaned as he read the media's interpretation of the latest victim. The killer got the nickname for his murders of the past. The press had further researched this case, only to find that this killer had been tracked for a long time without them knowing.

In the papers, they constantly bashed the police for keeping it all hushed up. They were not letting up on the police commissioner, as he tried to explain to them that they were doing everything they could to bring him in. They mocked the police, by saying that their secret was out. They further ridiculed the police by giving the killer the nickname that would constantly remind citizens what a disgrace the police had been for trying to keep them all in the dark.

Across the city Gordon, Blake, the Mayor, and all of the GCPD were dealing with the chaos that the newest killer had created. People were screaming at them for keeping them from protecting their children, even as the PD had done everything they could to ensure their safety. Everything looked to be going downhill.

Hush had sent his big message after all.

* * *

><p><span><strong>AN:** Oh. My. Gosh. It has literally been two years since I updated last, and I feel like such a horrible person. I would be really surprised if anybody was still reading this story… I did have real life cutting into my time, but not enough to warrant me a two year hiatus. I am really sorry guys. I hope I didn't discourage any of my readers from continuing to enjoy my story. Right now I am in college life, and it's a lot less stressful than high school. Hopefully I'll be able to update more often. I finally got some of my muse back for this story. I really want to finish this, and maybe move onto other projects if I'm feeling ambitious. For those who are reading this, thank you so much! You don't have to review or anything, because I really don't deserve it… Knowing that some people are reading it is a reward in and of itself. Until next time!


	10. Chapter 10

**Misconception**

Chapter 10:

* * *

><p><span>Disclaimer:<span> I don't own Batman... I am Batman!

* * *

><p>"That could have gone a lot worse…" Blake said to Gordon as they left the Mayor's office. Gordon's face was crestfallen as they made their way down some stairs, but he nodded in response to Blake's statement. They had just gotten more than an earful from Mayor Garcia for their lack of keeping criminals under their control. They paused at window on their way down the stairs. Outside they saw some protestors jeering at people who worked for the Gotham city offices and held up signs of protest. Gordon shook his head as they stood by the window watching the scene below.<p>

All things considered, Blake was right. The Mayor was doing what he'd always done, only a lot louder. The people were always at unrest, but instead of having their hatred pointed at the Batman, it was now directed at the GCPD. It was the same rules but different players.

"There aren't as many people as there were before the press conference." Gordon stated, as he spotted the largely diminished crowd of people. He turned to Blake after a beat. "I have you to thank for that. Finding the cure immediately was the smartest move."

Blake shuffled awkwardly at the complement, but quirked a small smile. His dark eyes showed embarrassment at the praise, but he nodded anyway. It wasn't often that Blake received recognition for his hard work, and when he was, he didn't know how to receive it.

"I just did what anyone would've done." He muttered, and they turned from the window. Gordon let a smile grace his features at the Lieutenant's deflection. "Shipments should arrive within the week."

"Just be sure to analyze all the crates that come in. You know where it's coming from." Gordon warned, and Blake nodded. "I have men ready to do just that. After the all the boxes have been checked, they'll send the cure to the clinics and hospitals."

They were already suspicious that one of the leading doctors to discover the cure, Thomas Elliot, worked for Falstaff Co. Blake had been unaware at the time that the doctor worked in two places, both for the police and the sketchy businessman. Now that they knew who was funding this thing, they would be careful to watch the shipments for any drugs that the business man was known for importing. Sadly, like many crime bosses, Falstaff wasn't pinned to these crimes because the men who did the dirty work were always blamed. Falstaff claimed that they had gone behind his back to make profits, even though the money from those drug sales was never found.

This happened again and again. Every time that Falstaff's workers would 'misbehave', as the businessman put it, the PD would see Falcone rise in strength with weapons and men. It was a well-known rumor that Falstaff was involved with the mob bosses for his own gains, but they could never find a connection between the two that could seal the businessman's fate.

Gordon and Blake arrived at a back door, at the bottom of the steps, and went out quietly to the unmarked police van. They drove around the corner and saw the people continuing to protest. It was a wonder to Blake as to how these people had so much time on their hands.

"Once this is done, and killer behind bars, we can get on with trapping Falcone once and for all." Blake remarked, and shook his head as he saw how angry some of the protesters were. They drove down the road and the building behind them disappeared as they turned a corner.

It wasn't much better at the MCU.

The same type of protestors surrounded the building, only there was a bigger number there. It was mainly the PD's fault for this mess wasn't it? Gordon sighed tiredly as he turned the wheel and they parked out of sight from the group. Blake didn't look much better, but his eyes held determination that Gordon had felt in his own younger days. This man's expression always made him feel slightly better knowing that Gotham had another idealist to protect her.

They entered the MCU and headed to upper levels to cover one last thing. The boy, Derrick Lennox, waited in protective custody of the police before his aunt and uncle could come and take him home. They had been on the other side of the world when tragedy struck the Lennox family. The boy had given his story and description. It had matched up with their theories, but they didn't know what to make of the killer himself. The fact that the child had said the assassin had a gauze to cover up his face wasn't what disturbed them. It was the fact that whatever hid behind that, was a fowl smelling, and rotting piece of flesh. They didn't know whose it was, or where it had come from. They would have surmised it as being the killer's own self-inflicted wounds, due to the blood, but the fact that the boy's senses detected such a horrible smell put that theory on the sidelines.

The boy sat in silence, glancing around in fear at doors and windows. He was merely twelve years old, and fear already clouded his world. This scene struck Gordon with a sense of Déjà vu so powerful, that he stopped to be a sad spectator once more. A little over twenty years ago, a child just like this one, had clung to himself in that very same room. In his despair, this child believed his world had ended. He still remembered the way the little boy had clung to his father's jacket like a lifeline and the soft, barely heard sobs that wracked the broken spirit. Innocence that should have remained, was robbed.

Gordon had been there to tell him that despite all the horror and bloodshed that had happened to him, all would be well. Gordon himself didn't know how this could be, but he comforted the boy anyway. The child couldn't see it then, but a dim spark of hope rose up, coupled with a darker, mournful soul that also resided in the depths of his young eyes. Gordon did not know how he gave that child hope when he had none himself. It was something instinctual, something that he knew deep down, that gave him the strength to give that comfort.

"Gordon." He was shaken out of his reverie by Blake, who was glancing at him worriedly. The commissioner muttered an apology, and turned his attention to the Lieutenant fully.

"I need to tell the boy his family will be here within the hour." Blake stated, obviously not looking forward to disturbing the boy anymore.

"I'll go with you." Gordon decided, and opened the door. The boy glanced up hurriedly, but there as a familiar dull look in his eyes. Gordon paused, but started approaching the boy slowly. "It's okay son. You're safe here."

There was a silence so thick and mournful, that Blake and Gordon glanced at each other. They silently debated which one should relay the information. Blake motioned to himself, and Gordon nodded. The lieutenant opened his mouth to speak, but another voice cut the silence.

"You were the one that found me." The boy responded curtly, much to Gordon's surprise. He hadn't expected the boy to start talking. Usually victims kept all things to themselves and that included their voices.

"Yes, and also did he" Gordon replied cautiously as he motioned to Blake. The lieutenant nodded to the boy solemnly. The boy looked at Blake and Gordon.

"Thank you." The boy responded, and glanced down at the floor, his eyes dulling once more. Gordon sat down next to the boy, careful not to invade his privacy. Blake opened his mouth once more to speak, but was once again interrupted.

"There was someone else." The boy stated and glanced up at both of them. Both Blake and Gordon's expressions held a hint of surprise. The boy shouldn't have remembered any of that. They had wrongfully assumed that the Lennox heir had been too disoriented to know what was going on. "I didn't try to escape, I was rescued by someone else."

"We came to you, do you remember that much?" Blake asked cautiously, still amazed by the boy's memory. The child nodded, but the determination still resided in his eyes. It struck Gordon suddenly that the boy was merely trying to keep his mind off of what had happened. Derrick Lennox was stubbornly trying not to remember the horrors of the previous night.

"Son, we came to tell you that your aunt and uncle will be arriving shortly." Gordon stated, hoping not to upset the boy any more than he already was. The child looked up at him, his eyes moist, and mouth twisted in such a way to keep himself from crying, but nodded.

There was another silence, but Gordon couldn't bring himself to leave. Blake was having the same sentiments as well, and squatted before the boy, much like Gordon had done with a young Bruce Wayne.

"We will find him, and bring him down." Blake stated with a determination that made the boy look at him. Despair clouded the young face.

"But things can't go back to normal." The boy responded curtly, and seemed to draw into himself further.

"No, it won't be the same." The lieutenant's voice cracked. Blake put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "The sunrises and sunsets will come and go and seasons will pass. The world will move on when you feel you can't. You will be a different person, and when you are ready, always know that you can join them."

"What do you mean?" The boy asked, his voice distraught. Gordon could see the tear tracks sliding off his face, and onto his lap.

"I'm saying that even though things seem hopeless right now, everything will be okay one day." Blake squeezed the boy's shoulder and finally the dam broke for the child as he began to grieve. Gordon himself was perplexed at the way Blake handled the situation. It was almost as if the lieutenant had gone through a similar thing himself… Gordon watched on with sadness, but despair no longer suffocated the room.

That same glint of hope had been rekindled in the boy's eyes.

* * *

><p>Bruce sat in a chair as he stared out the window. The morning was dull and overcast. He sat in deep thought as the events of the last several hours washed over him. So much had happened in so little time, and he had even less time to contemplate it all. He lined up the things that he knew and tried to make sense of it.<p>

He knew that Falstaff would do whatever it took to get his hands on a lab and that included drugging him so that he'd sign something that could potentially destroy Wayne Enterprises.

He also knew that the killer was getting bolder as the days went by and he was still on the loose. Bruce had done everything in his power to track him down but to no avail. It seemed that not even criminals knew much about him.

Falcone was still living as free man and there wasn't any sign that they were any closer to bringing him in. Bruce knew that if he could find the sponsor, he'd be able to follow the stream to the source, and convict the crime lord, but something was always getting in the way. It was almost deliberate, that the killer chose the same night that Falstaff was making an important call, to bring chaos to the citizens. Not to mention the fact that the killer seemed to have an endless supply of toxins to kill people with. He however, never had something strong enough and untraceable at the same time, to kill older victims. Falstaff was desperately trying to get his hands on a lab that could be the key to the killer's success. The killer was also a highly trained professional. Not just anybody could afford to pay him off.

But why hire him in the first place?

Falstaff was a scumbag, but he wasn't without purpose. He had to have a motivation or reason for the murders. Bruce thought for a moment, and then it dawned on him. If Falstaff was supporting Falcone like he originally thought he was, then the businessman was probably hiring the assassin to get under the skin of the GCPD and the Batman. Ultimately, Falstaff's partnership with Falcone would pay off. Falstaff would have some influence in the workings of the underworld, and Falcone would be better off with the funds. The killer was there purely for distraction, and disrupting the people. The citizens of Gotham were currently breathing down the backs of the police and politicians, who were desperately trying to get things under control.

Everything fit together perfectly, but one variable remained a mystery to him. The doctor, Thomas Elliot, was working for the police forensic scientists, and for a businessman with questionable morals. It wasn't so much why he worked for Falstaff that worried him, it was a well-paying job after all. What concerned him was the fact that this doctor discovered the antitoxin, and worked under the businessman that started the chaos in the first place.

Bruce believed that there was more to the scheme, and it came in the form of better sales. He, Blake, and Gordon had debated that Falstaff was using this chaos as a smokescreen for what really lay behind the massive shipments that were due to arrive any week. The city government had been a little short on funds at the time, and Falstaff had stepped in to help pay for the costs like any good citizen would. They had concluded that he was going to try to import some drugs for the mob lords to make some sales. He seemed to be in their good graces already with the killer and his methods of distraction were really paying off.

Bruce was pulled from his thoughts when Alfred came into the room with his hands behind his back. The butler looked solemn after the night's events, but kept any comments to himself. The memories of what happened to a younger Master Wayne were too much to think about, so he remained quiet. Bruce himself also had sympathy for the child, knowing exactly what he was going through at the moment. He too chose not to dwell on it, and had to mentally focus on the other issues at hand.

Both the butler and the entrepreneur waited in companionable silence until Bruce was called away to keep up his image and Alfred to his work.

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><p>"It's not that I don't appreciate the distraction or anything, but sometimes this killer scares me." Falcone muttered as he chewed his food. Other mobsters sat will him eating and drinking beer.<p>

"His methods are somewhat unorthodox for a killer, but he does get the point across." Another man shrugged, completely unconcerned with anything.

"I don't understand one thing though." Falcone continued without addressing the other man. "How he could get his hands on a wealthy kids family and not the commissioner's kid."

"That's still bothering you? So what? He did what you ultimately wanted in the long run. To get the police off our backs." A Russian mob lord with dark eyes responded. Others in the room nodded in agreement.

"I had to offer him everything to kill a kid, which he's proud of doing by the way, but he has no issue with killing two adults a few days later? Something isn't right here." Falcone remarked, a bite in his voice.

"So, you're upset because he lied to you?" A blonde mobster chuckled. "Welcome to Gotham city kid!"

"Never mind..." Falcone grumbled, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Aw, he's just in a bad mood because he was this close to being caught by the police." The blonde held up an index finger and a thumb. "At least you learned your lesson. Stay away from the dirty work lest you be-"

"_Caught and prosecuted_, I know!" Falcone huffed and slammed his bottle on the table. Some of the mobsters startled but some were amused. "Do you think this is a joke? We have never been so close to rebirth, but every time I turn around, something is getting in the way!"

Everyone paused, even the blonde mobster lost his grin.

"And now that the way is clear, you want to sit around and wing it without any prior planning?" Falcone ground out. He shook his head in disgust. "I am young, but old age doesn't seem to have any meaning in this type of business!"

The bar was silent, save the sound of television and chatter from others outside of their reserved room. It was in that moment that the mobsters finally realized the severity of the situation. Falcone let out a less frustrated sigh, seeing as they had taken his words somewhat seriously.

"If we don't find a source of income soon, we're moving to the next big city." Falcone's grim voice reported. "We need the next month of imports to go undisturbed, otherwise, we are through."

Moments after he made this announcement, a man dressed in a suit pushed his way into the room. Sunglasses covered his eyes, and he wasn't recognizable to any of the men present. A letter was pulled out of his coat pocket.

"Alberto Falcone." He stated dully, but Falcone didn't move. He watched the man cautiously. A moment passed, and the sunglasses man turned to look in his direction. He approached the mob lord, and dropped the envelope unceremoniously in front of Falcone. A moment later, he was gone without so much as another word.

Falcone had the envelope checked for anything suspicious, and when it was revealed that nothing harmful was on the parchment, he picked it up.

_Falcone:_

_I have been watching your work, and am impressed with your persistence inside this city. Organized crime is dying in this city, and you are the last major lord._

_I know you are distinctly aware of this, and wonder why it is that I bring these things up. I do have a purpose for this letter and the strange way it must be delivered. You see, I have a rather hefty sum on my hands that needs spending, but I can't stand giving it away to charities or the police for nothing. That is where I come to the main purpose._

_I want your full cooperation in exchange for the very thing that you desperately need. It's a lifeline, and a hand of friendship should you accept it. If you are having trouble believing me, don't take my word for it. I have a vault waiting for you by Gotham bay. Enclosed is the combination and coordinates of this vault. Inside, will show you a glimpse of my wealth._

_For obvious reasons, I will not give my name. All previous patrons have been caught, and I'd rather keep this as a clean deal. Once you reach the vault, collect your sums and leave a letter by the door. Don't bother trying to track us down. I'll kill anyone who wants to do so._

The letter was unsigned, not surprising. Falcone set the letter down, and read it again carefully. At the questioning gazes of the other mob lords, he read the letter word for word to the group. Another, less tense silence filled the room, before someone spoke.

"Do you believe in signs?" The blonde muttered, relief lining his voice.

"I do now." Falcone muttered in disbelief.

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><p><span><strong>AN:** Here's another chapter that I put a few hours into. Did you know that time flies when you're writing? I swear that I write for a few minutes, and when I glance at the clock another hour has passed. I've kind of missed doing this, and I'm glad I'm back for the time being. Thank you **Riptide2** for reviewing! I was shocked that I got a review at all, so thank you for your support! It means a lot to hear from people that they like my story. (If you don't like it, don't hesitate to tell me. I am always looking to improve my writing.) Thank you to all who have alerted, favorited, reviewed, or just read the story. It's great to see the views on this story go up after such a long time.


	11. Chapter 11

**Misconception**

Chapter 11:

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I love Batman, but sadly I don't own him. If I did, I'd be making movies about him.

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><p>Gordon and Blake stepped outside of the room and watched the family reunion through the glass door. The kid clung to his aunt like a lifeline, and to Gordon's relief, they looked like a kind family that would take care of the boy. Blake's gaze was not a hardened as it usually was, but it was focused on something faraway. The lieutenant had handled the situation with a little experience. It was almost as if he'd done it before. Questions about Blake's past rose in Gordon's mind.<p>

"Blake" Gordon prompted, and Blake shook himself out of his reverie. The lieutenant smiled stiffly, but Gordon ignored the uncharacteristic silence of his friend. He instead motioned to the stairs that lead to the rooftop, and Blake nodded and followed the commissioner to the stairs. Once on the rooftop, Gordon turned to Blake with a questioning gaze.

"You handled that pretty well." Gordon stated, shoving his hands into his pockets. The brisk Gotham air swirled around them, bringing a slight chill to the rooftop occupants. Blake sighed, recognizing the question in his superior officer's voice. He debated internally whether he wanted to talk about it, and decided to talk. He'd known Gordon for a while, and he trusted the man with his life.

"I learned to push forward at a very young age." Blake responded, and looked at his feet, a grimace in his tone. His dark eyes were filled with an old and frigid sadness. He kicked the bit of gravel on the roof. "My mom died when I was young, so I didn't have to deal with the memory of her passing. My father, however, was shot and killed when I was a little older, and that isn't so hard to forget."

Gordon could tell he was trying to get past the subject without feeling the emotions that came with the memories. Blake held himself as though he had the weight of the world on him, and Gordon noticed the similarities that the lieutenant had with others who had been orphaned at a young age. The lieutenant sighed deeply as the winter air greeted him.

"I'm sorry," was all Gordon said, and Blake glanced at him and put on a brave face by quirking a small smile. He shuffled past Gordon, and looked down at the twinkling lights of the vast city. Gordon noticed that the boy's back was a little straighter than before, and the smile was a little forced.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." The lieutenant responded, in a tone that betrayed his darker emotions. That same smile was one that Gordon had seen before on another famous face. Similarities between Bruce Wayne and John Blake were suddenly apparent. Both wore masks of deception to hide their true pain for the people around them.

"Don't John… You don't have to put on a brave face, not around me." Gordon responded in a softer tone, and Blake's mask dropped instantly. The lieutenant frowned, his jaw clenched tighter when he looked Gordon directly in the eyes. There was a longer pause and Blake continued to stare. A moment later, the lieutenant dropped his gaze in defeat.

"You are one of the few people who has said that to me." Blake responded, his voice was full of grief. He sniffed, and tried to straighten himself up more. He paused for a moment, but continued with a softer voice. "They tell you that you can move on, but the pain never truly leaves us."

"The pain never goes away, because people you loved never leave you." Gordon responded after a moment of silence. Gordon thought of the instances where he'd talked with people who'd lost family at a young age, and realized he'd dealt with them very often. He added in a soft voice, "I try to understand the pain, but I can never truly experience it the way that you do."

"I appreciate your honesty." Blake responded genuinely, and sighed with remorse. "Being treated with apathy, or as a charity case, really used to bother me. That's why I do the job that I do, without divulging people with my history."

The commissioner knew the conversation was over, and opted to go a different direction with the conversation.

"It does rest my mind knowing that this city has another idealist." Gordon came to stand next to the younger man, to gaze at the city life below. "If I'm ever gone, I'd trust both you and the Batman to take care of this city."

Blake didn't even blink at the mention of the Batman, and smiled genuinely. Gordon's expression grew curious at Blake's expression. The lieutenant chuckled softly at a thought that overcame him. Gordon looked at him with slight amusement, and cocked an eyebrow. Blake noticing his look, shrugged, but opted to respond.

"It's just something that I remembered from my early days as a rookie." Blake waved him off. Gordon huffed in bewilderment, and continued to arch the eyebrow. Blake let out a slightly exasperated laugh, but continued with a dimpled smile. "All right, since I've told you a little bit about myself… I guess I can tell you this- but don't tell anyone."

Blake's last few words were stated sharply and Gordon nodded easily. Blake shoved his hands into his pockets, stalling his answer. He huffed out, "This is embarrassing…"

"Go on Lieutenant, I won't tell a soul." Gordon chuckled, and motioned for the man to add onto his explanation. Blake didn't look reassured, but continued anyway.

"I used to dream of working with the Batman." Blake responded with a small embarrassed smile. Gordon's eyebrows shot up in surprise at this remark, and Blake chuckled and thought for a bit. A moment later, the smile turned into a slight frown. "When it was declared that Batman murdered Harvey Dent, that dream was obviously futile. I guess I became bitter with the man, and that's why I'm not so keen on speaking with him."

"Now you know that he's innocent." Gordon replied, wrapping his coat tighter to himself. Sounds of the highway below them was carried up by the wind.

"I know that in my mind… but it seems that a part of me just can't let that go." Blake responded with the same frown Gordon seen that night several times. "A part of me can't forgive him, since he let me down."

"I am involved in the lie as well, John." Gordon added with conviction. "He and I both deserve the blame for all of this."

"No, no you don't." Blake retorted. "Neither of you deserve the blame for the crimes, but I am still angry about what happened after it. When I heard what really happened, I was angry with both of you, but more so towards the Batman."

"Why?"

"Because, it shouldn't have been him! He shouldn't have offered himself up like that!" Blake shot back. "Now the both of you are struggling with the shackles of these lies, while this new killer continues to grow in strength!"

"I know we've created a situation more difficult for ourselves, but it had to be done, lieutenant." Gordon responded, his voice rising a bit. "I assure you that despite the difficulties, we are prepared and determined to keep fighting."

A slight movement caught in the corner of Gordon's eyes, and he turned his head. The dark knight himself was standing stoically in the shadows. Blake startled, but Gordon saw that irritated expression slip back on his face. Gordon turned to fully face the vigilante, and approached him, leaving Blake standing by the edge of the building.

"Anything new?" Gordon asked tentatively, and the Batman's eyes found his for a brief minute.

"Hush is just a distraction." Batman said without preamble, and Blake walked up behind Gordon. "Falstaff is planning something big, involving the shipments. He needed an excuse to import things on a larger scale."

"That makes sense, but we don't have any leads to connect him to something like that." Gordon argued.

"Actually commissioner, there is." Blake responded, glancing back and forth between his boss and the vigilante. "In all the excitement, Stephens and I weren't able to complete the report yesterday like we wanted to."

"You told me that Falstaff plans to get his hands on a high tech lab owned by Wayne Enterprises." Gordon retorted. "How does that pin Falstaff, Falcone, or the killer?"

"It doesn't, seeing as Stephens and I were in his office without a warrant." Blake muttered with a tinge of embarrassment, and Gordon looked at him in disbelief.

"You did what? You know you can't use that evidence in court." Gordon groaned, and Blake held up his hands in self-defense.

"Don't worry, there wasn't anything in the office, but he did have a secret room." Blake stated, and Gordon stared at him with disbelief. "We didn't actually look in there, so whatever's in there, can still be used."

"I can access the vault." Batman spoke up. "I can also try to get you evidence for a reasonable warrant, once I confirm that the evidence is there."

"I do like that plan, on the condition that you let the police do their work once the warrant is issued." Blake responded, going back to his usual attitude towards the Batman.

"Lieutenant, you know how sensitive this case is." Gordon remarked, his voice stern. "We need all the help we can get."

"I understand completely commissioner." Blake said, his voice reasonable. "Which is why I'm going to ask Batman to keep an eye on Bruce Wayne. He's our other lead."

"Wayne? In what way?" Gordon asked, feeling silly knowing that the person they spoke of was present. Batman's solemn expression didn't change at the mention of his true name. He must have had a lot of practice with not giving things away with expressions.

"I heard Falstaff talking about trying to go after Mr. Wayne to get his hands on those labs." Blake remarked grimly. "He also mentioned that something needs to be disposed of. Three guesses who."

"I don't know about this Blake. Even if the man wanted something like that, don't you think it'd be a bit extreme trying to kill him, if not counterproductive?" Gordon responded stroking his chin in thought. "You heard that he was trying to get Wayne to sign something, and judging by the fact that Falstaff's company hasn't consumed Wayne's I'd say he wasn't able to get a signature."

"I just want to be careful. Besides, even if the guy is a bit of an airhead, he does have his smart moments." Blake replied, and crossed his arms. "Remember when he worked with the crime boss for us? He was able to get more information out of him than we ever did."

"Sounds like he can take care of himself then." Gordon remarked, wanting to chuckle. Batman keeping tabs on himself was a little funny after all… Blake looked like he was going to speak again when Batman beat him to it.

"I'll do it, only if you allow me to work, without argument." Batman crossed his arms over his chest. Blake looked ready to protest, but paused in thought. He eyed Batman for a while, glanced at Gordon for a moment, but nodded eventually.

"Fine." Blake grumbled after a moment of silence. Gordon let a sigh of relief escape him. Blake and Batman agreeing on something was a miracle, in and of itself.

"We'll have to get to work then." Gordon uncrossed his arms, and turned towards the rooftop door. He looked over his shoulder to see Blake still facing Batman.

"Oh, and by the way, you're welcome for not ratting you out to Stephens. I knew it was you hiding under that man's desk." Blake stated, and Gordon almost swore that Batman's face held a ghost of a smile. The commissioner knowing that he'd missed an inside joke, shook his head and walked towards the door. He paused in front of the door to listen for a moment. "I hope you'll be able to find that evidence, we're going to need it."

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><p>Batman watched from another building as Blake and Gordon headed back inside. He'd actually heard the conversation about the reason for Blake's animosity towards him, and didn't know what to make of it. He felt a small smile come over him, knowing the information. Blake was a misunderstood person at first glance, but when one looked closely, they'd see a completely devoted and loyal man. Shaking off that thought, he stood from where he was crouching, and walked towards the edge of the building. Immediately after that, he jumped off the edge and glided down towards his batpod. He had some information to gather.<p>

Once he was nearing his destination, he slowed the vehicle down, and parked it so that it was hidden. He gazed up at the looming structure above him and shot a grapple to the nearest ledge. Very discreetly, he made his climb, finally coming to the right window.

He climbed inside the building, choosing to hide before he made his move. He looked down at the device in his hands, and hacked into the security system to shut down all the cameras, but before he did, he decided to check all the rooms. He was currently located behind one of the pillars, listening for any sound. In those moments he switched through all the cameras, and watched as Falstaff and his doctor approach the very room he occupied. He closed down the screen, and found a better hiding spot in the higher up beams of the room's structure. As he was getting settled, he heard the door below him open.

"This is hopeless!" Falstaff burst out as he collapsed in his desk chair with a huff. Batman noted that the doctor stood in front of the desk with an air of nervousness about him. "I know you are one of the most brilliant biochemists out there, why can't we do our own research without using what he owns?"

"I know that this is hard to understand, seeing as you're a very busy man, and don't have time-" The nervous man began.

"Oh get on with it!" Falstaff snapped, and placed a hand delicately on his face, as if exhausted.

"Those labs hold the research that is key to the kind of drug you want developed." The doctor replied with a little more strength in his voice. "If you want this to work, with a high demand and all, you need the supplement that those labs hold. There's no other lab that's more sophisticated in Gotham."

"I know this! And without this thing, we'd barely get enough sales to impress the mob lords." Falstaff replied, his voice tinted with anger. "I need them to see a glimpse of my wealth and power."

"I can guarantee you a successful product if you get me to correct resources, as long as you promise me your side of the deal." Elliot responded, and Batman noted that his voice didn't waver.

"Yeah, yeah I know. You want to become a surgeon like daddy. I get it!" Falstaff waved a hand in irritation. "You told me already."

"I want to earn the license to become one. Nothing else." Doctor Elliot responded with a tinge of irritation, but Batman suspected that he was too afraid to speak out.

"I don't know why. You're brilliant in your area already." Falstaff replied with a shake of his head. Doctor Elliot smiled nervously again.

"It's been a lifelong dream of mine." The doctor responded humbly, and Falstaff rolled his eyes. Elliot's cell phone began to ring, and the doctor excused himself from the room to take the call. Meanwhile, Batman watched as Falstaff picked up some papers to read over and sign. Halfway through that, the man turned on the television to look at the news station. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening, since several homicides in a single night was common in Gotham.

As if remembering something, Falstaff stood to leave the room. Batman checked the cameras on his device, and saw him heading for the elevator. From the looks of it, he was heading to some offices below him. Knowing that this was his chance to see what was inside the vault, he jumped down from the rafters, barely making a sound as he landed. Finding the secret button was easy to do since he already knew where it was. Once the panel door was opened, the dark knight headed inside to see what sort of evidence waited for him. He found nothing out of the ordinary. There were stashes of money, some hand guns, and a few legal documents. The documents interested him the most, and he leafed through them carefully, taking pictures of each of the pages to look at later in case they needed some of this information.

By the end of the search, Batman knew a lot about the man, including all the societies he was a part of, how many different wives he'd had, and that he was deathly allergic to sesame seed, but no documents were found about his plans for Wayne Enterprises, or his involvement with Falcone. Apparently, the man kept up with covering his tracks. It was then that Batman remembered that Falstaff wanted to dispose of something the last time Bruce was inside his office. That something had to be the evidence that could've been used against him and Falcone. Of course they'd all assumed that he'd been talking about his alter ego, Bruce Wayne.

Knowing that finding anything incriminating inside the vault was a lost cause, he exited through the hidden door. He glanced down at the cameras to see that Falstaff was still downstairs with one of his employees discussing something work-related. Batman glanced at the TV once more, but regretted doing so once he saw what filled the screen.

The video of a family was projected in the screen. They all had bags over their heads, and their arms were tied behind their backs. Below the image, text from the news station flowed across in a continuing line. Batman knew that this was the work of the infamous Hush because the killer's loud breathing could be heard off-screen.

As before, nothing was said, but the message was clear.

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><p><span><strong>AN:** Here's another chapter for you guys! One of Gordon's lines to Blake is actually a slight crossover line from another film that actor's been in. Can you tell me which one it was? My thanks goes to **R****iptide2** for the review, and to all those who chose to favorite or alert this story! Seriously guys, your reviews keeps me going! I enjoy writing this story immensely, but it would be awesome to know that there are others who are enjoying it too. Oh and by the way, have any of you seen the show _Gotham_? If you haven't, stop what you're doing right now and watch it. If you want to see it, go to to see their shows. So far, it has all the episodes uploaded to the latest episode. It's really good for a show, and I recommend it to all Batman lovers out there. Well, I got to go! Don't forget to review! :)


	12. Chapter 12

**Misconception**

Chapter 12:

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><p>Disclaimer: I love Batman, but sadly I don't own him. If I did, I'd be rich, and making some awesome fanfictions that I've read into movies.<p>

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><p>Gordon glanced in the rearview mirror of his car to see Jimmy and Babs sitting solemnly. The whole car was quiet, save for the traffic around them, and the noise of the car making its way down the road. His wife was silent as well, but a mixture of sadness and relief lingered on her face. Gordon sighed knowing that the other three occupants of the car were not keen on leaving Gotham city. It had taken a full hour to settle the kids down enough to listen to reason. Part of the reason they listened was because Barbara had been able to help him explain. He had talked to her earlier before breaking the news to the kids.<p>

At first his wife stared at him in disbelief, and then started shouting her objections. Then she proceeded to berate him for even suggesting such a thing. Gordon winced at the memory, as she did have a very sharp tongue. For a long time, it didn't seem like she'd listen, but eventually she came around. After calmly trying to reason with her, she listened, and a look of understanding crossed her face.

"Jim, you know I don't want to leave you." She had said, as a last feeble attempt to change his mind.

"This is for the children. They've already been targeted twice, and the only reason they're alive is because I had a friend who saved them." Gordon responded, sounding just as dejected.

After those words, she had complied. If it was for the safety of the children, then she'd do anything. Barbara had a good head on her shoulders when it came down to what really mattered, and Gordon was really quite grateful that she hadn't run off with the kids after the incident with Harvey Dent. She had every right to do so, but something had stopped her. She really could have gone that direction, but by some miracle she stayed by his side.

He glanced over at her as she sat contemplatively in the passenger seat next to him. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he opened his other to Barbara. She glanced down at his hand, and took it solemnly. The rest of the drive was spent in silence.

The first sign that they were near the airport was the plane that soared over their heads, low in the sky. The control tower could be seen from the distance. Barbara took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Gordon glanced back to see the kids sleeping.

"I feel like such a coward." She muttered, and he glanced at her sharply.

"Nothing you're doing is cowardly." Gordon objected, and Barbara sighed.

"I'm leaving you to the wolves. I feel like I should stay." She responded.

"The kids need you, and I need you to do this." Gordon responded, and she looked at him forlornly. "I'll sleep better knowing you're unharmed, and can't be touched by my enemies."

"Shouldn't I be supporting you?" She asked, sounding uncertain. Barbara was an opinionated woman, and this was the first time she sounded unsure of herself.

"You already are." Gordon smiled sadly and glanced at her. "I feel much better knowing that you'll be guarding our children every way that you can."

Barbara nodded in defeat. Gordon hated having to do this to them. He hated that they'd be separated, but he knew that it wouldn't be forever. The car pulled up to the airport terminal drop off, and Barbara turned to wake the kids. When they woke up, their eyes held confusion for a moment, but disappointment soon clouded their countenances.

A moment later, they were all on the sidewalk, and their bags were unloaded from the car. Gordon said his good byes to Barbara and Babs. Babs had tears in her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. Barbara put an arm around her shoulder as a way to be strong for her. Gordon knelt before her, and told her that everything would go back to normal once he settled things down. She nodded, trusting him completely.

Jimmy didn't even look at him. His arms were crossed, and his face was scrunched up in disappointment and mournfulness. Gordon knelt down in front of him solemnly, but the boy didn't turn his head to look at him. He had more difficulty convincing the boy that this was all for the best. All the child ever wanted to do, was help, but this time he couldn't. Gordon didn't ever want to risk what happened several months prior. When his son had been trapped on that boat with him, he'd never felt so helpless in his life. He still had nightmares about it.

His nightmares after the incident with Dent, had consisted of the two faced man murdering his whole family. He had dreams of a world without his friend who saved the lives of his wife and kids, and Dent was always there to ensure that they all couldn't escape that time. In his dreams, after they had been taken hostage by the League of Shadows, all he could see were the tall members of the League holding his son by the scruff of his clothes. He was usually tied up like he had been before, and forced to watch as they threatened the life of his child and eventually took it. They usually were threatening him, and he'd tell them everything they needed to hear, and after they got what they wanted, they'd take his boy's life anyway.

Gordon stared at the tear streaked face of the boy, his resolve firm. He would not risk the life of his family ever again. The boy didn't see why it had to be this way, but Gordon knew he would someday. If the boy didn't forgive him now, he knew he would later. Jimmy couldn't hold on to a grudge for long amounts of time.

"James, I know that you don't want to go, but I have no other choice." Gordon began, and the boy sniffed and stubbornly refused to look at him. Gordon put a hand on the boy's cheek. "I love you son."

He stood up from his kneeling position, and took a step back. His wife, and Babs looked at him once more, took their bags, and said their good byes again. Gordon glanced hopelessly at the boy, and said farewell once again. He turned his back to head back to the car, with a different weight resting on his shoulders.

"Wait!" Gordon paused at the call that his son made, and turned to see the boy running to him with full speed. He knelt down once more, and caught the boy. The child clung desperately to him, and Gordon felt some of the weight lift off his shoulders. "I love you too dad."

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><p>The Lieutenant's car screeched to a stop in front of the building where the hostage situation was happening. Blake all but jumped out of his car after shutting off the engine, and looked at the chaos around him. A skyscraper stood illuminated by the search lights from below, reminding Blake of a stage with spotlights shining on it while the play unfolded.<p>

A really sick and twisted play.

"Holy sh-" Blake began, but was cut off by the sound of more sirens wailing. He could see hostages with bags over their heads, still bound, and teetering dangerously on a ledge. It was even worse now that it looked to be a family. Blake crossed his arms, still looking at the scene with horrified fascination. His eyes were frozen, finding that he couldn't look away from the display. He forced himself to look away, and turned to see cop walk by him hurriedly.

"Officer? Officer!" Blake called out, and the young man stopped and turned to him. "What's being done about the situation?"

"Nothing can be done at the moment, but I've heard that we've got a special SWAT unit on their way." The officer replied, and Blake quirked an eyebrow.

"Why aren't the ground troops moving in?" Blake questioned.

"The doors are heavily armored. There's no way to get in, unless infiltrated from the inside." The officer stated and Blake muttered his thanks.

One of the family members lost their balance, and almost fell over the edge. Horrified screams and gasps from spectators could be heard next to him. Thankfully, the person regained their balance, and fell back on the safety of the ledge. Blake noticed that all their bonds were tied together and noted the implication. He paled slightly.

If one fell, they'd all be sent to their deaths.

He hoped help would get there in time.

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><p>The dark knight landed on his feet with a thud on the street pavement. He walked straight for the Bat Pod, with no hesitation in his steps. Instead of getting frustrated, he decided to focus all his energies into going after Hush. The cold wind drove in swirling clouds that made the tension the city was feeling, all the more foreboding. After leaving the premises, that was Falstaff's company building, Batman tore through the streets.<p>

Before he even reached the scene, he could already hear the sound of an army of sirens wailing into the frigid night. He parked, quickly hid the Pod, and ascended a building in front of him. Once he had a better vantage point, he could see the bright lights glaring against the skyscraper. News station helicopters hovered over the spectacle trying to catch a better view, and reporters below swarmed like ants towards the building. Batman pulled out a telescope device, and placed it over one of his eyes. On the building he saw the family tied up together, and ready to fall at any given moment. The floor that the victims were on was completely void of any lights, but he could see the faint outline of the killer thanks to the floodlights below. After getting a good look at the building itself, he examined the premises around the skyscraper. He cursed. Nothing but lower buildings surrounded the hostage situation, and the killer had chosen a floor too high. This meant that he couldn't glide in, which was the most effective method of taking him down.

He'd have to make a climb with his grapple gun, and doing that with so many cops around was a difficulty in and of itself. He'd be as easy of a target as a fish in a barrel. He used the device again, searching for the Lieutenant's familiar stiff posture. It didn't take long to find him, and when he did, Batman sent him a text.

**I need a way in.**

Batman could see the man huff in annoyance, and glance around as if looking for him. Blake shook his head, but looked at his phone again. He started to text back, and a moment later, the dark knight felt the vibration of his phone.

**Took you long enough. On the building at my 3 O'clock.**

Within minutes, he found his way to the building that Blake specified and climbed onto the rooftop. Unsurprisingly, Blake was there also, not noticing the man behind him. Instead he stood with his gaze transfixed on the situation above. Who could blame him? An act of such evil had not been on display for the whole city to see in a long time. Trying not to startle him, Batman deliberately made his footfalls heavier. Blake turned, and Bruce could see a hint of appreciation for his action.

"What will you do?" Blake asked, and turned back to the scene.

"Climb." The dark knight rasped, and Blake scoffed.

"This is the most unguarded side of the building, but you'll still be in a line of fire." Blake looked to see the man undaunted by this statement.

"That won't be a problem, but the situation could get worse. The killer hasn't made his intentions clear yet, but he will soon." Batman stated, and Blake nodded absent mindedly.

"If what you say is true, that he's just a distraction, what could he possibly want?" Blake asked with a curious tint in his voice.

"He means to cause mass hysteria." Batman stated pulling out his grapple gun. "We need to shut him down and bring him in before he does."

"How do you plan to do that?" Blake asked incredulously.

"By climbing." Batman stated, and tightly gripped the scruff of Blake's jacket. "Hold on."

Before Blake could say anything, the ground beneath him vanished and the city street lay sweeping beneath him. He held onto the vigilante's arm for dear life, shouting from the shock of it all. The cold wind whipped his exposed skin, and the sound of it roared in his ears. Below him, cars looked like ants, and the sounds of their horns were distant. If he should fall, it'd be a long way down. Soon, but not soon enough for Blake, they went crashing through a window several floors below the hostage situation. Blake sat there gasping, and staring at nothing with wide eyes. He sat there for a long time panting from the near death experience, and realized he was still grasping the masked man's arm. He snapped his arm back to himself in embarrassment, still taking shallow breaths.

"I hate you." Blake breathed.

Batman unfazed by this comment walked around to examine the floor that they had crashed into. Instead of jumping right into the action, he allowed the lieutenant a moment to gather his bearings and take a deep breath. Once he saw Blake do just that, he motioned for him to follow him. Blake rolled his eyes, but stood to approach the deranged man. The vigilante stood by an elevator, eyeing the number it was on.

"I never took you for an elevator riding person." Blake remarked with a slightly hysterical laugh, still not over the shock, but all he got was a withering glare. _Why does he only have a sense of humor when it's at my expense?_ Blake wondered bitterly and watched as the dark knight took out a device and placed it on the cool metal of the doors. After making a short beeping noise, the doors opened to reveal no elevator, but rather the vertical tunnel that ascended into darkness.

"We are not doing that again." Blake responded with dread, taking a step back, and noted the quirk of the other man's lips. Blake huffed in annoyance at knowing that the dark knight enjoyed watching him feel uncomfortable. The vigilante approached him with a small device in his hand, and placed it into Blake's.

"No, stand by the back stairwell doors and set these decrypting devices. They should be enough to disable the locks." Batman shot the grapple hook up the elevator shaft. "Wait for my word to call the ground units in."

Blake nodded easily, knowing that anything was better than flying around with a deranged man dressed as a bat. The lieutenant set to work immediately by heading down to the ground level of the building. Batman then pressed the button on the grapple gun and went shooting up the tunnel. The air rushed past him until he arrived at the correct floor. He placed a similar device that he'd used below on the door, and it readily opened. Nothing was on this floor because it was the floor just beneath where the hostage situation was commencing. He swiftly changed to his infrared vision to see where people were and what was going on.

He silently groaned at what he saw. The hostages were nearly invisible to him because of the heat from the floodlights below, but he did see a man holding what appeared to be a gun aimed at one of them. He searched the rest of the level, but found no trace of any other heat signatures that outlined any other presence in that floor. He acted quickly by placing explosives just below the man holding the gun and set a short timer. Moments after he cleared himself away from the line of shrapnel, an explosion sounded and a cry of shock could be heard. The man landed in a heap on the floor, his gun skidded away from him. Batman reached for him, grabbing the front of his shirt, and held him against a wall. Before he could growl out any questions, he realized that the man wasn't the infamous Hush. The man was already halfway unconscious, but he took care of that quickly by knocking him out completely and handcuffing him securely. He looked up the gaping hole in the ceiling, turning on his infrared once again. Nothing but the hostages could be seen, but he didn't believe that they'd be alone. It couldn't be this easy. It never was with Hush.

He crept up through the opening, taking steps as quietly as he could. He lithely slipped through the room, taking care to glance around, still not seeing any other heat signatures. He still wasn't satisfied that it would be this easy, so he searched the room carefully again. Nothing in the dark stirred, but he kept his back to the hostages who leaned on the windows, keeping a wary eye on the room. Without a moment's hesitation he turned to retrieve the hostages by breaking the window and pulling them all inside in one fluid motion. Before he even turned back to face the room, he knew he wasn't alone anymore. He heard the whimper of a girl, and the familiar heavy breathing of Hush. He turned to see the killer pulling off a thermal blanket that was used to disguise his heat signature and pulling another hostage to her feet roughly. The family that he just pulled inside lay on the floor, groaning, but laid still obediently.

Something was very wrong here.

He should've known that this was all a setup. Capturing and taking hostages wasn't the killer's MO. He'd done things quietly before, but something else had changed the status quo. This almost solidified his own theory that the killer was working for someone else. The assassin was not using his preferred methods of fulfilling his bloodlust; he was acting on another's orders. Hush had almost gone through any lengths to remain hidden up until his previous hostage situation where he'd killed a boy's family and used the child to garner a reaction from the media. A sudden realization came over Batman. The setup before was a test to see how he'd handle a hostage situation. This moment, this scene, was going to be a defining moment.

"What do you want?" Batman growled, but Hush made no reply. Batman could see through the gauzes on his face, that he had cold eyes. His victim was a teenaged girl whom he held captive by a surgical blade pressed to her exposed neck. The man stepped away, revealing a camera and very advanced transmitter attached to it. He also noted that the transmission was live and was probably broadcasting across all of the Gotham city news stations. Hush stood in front of the camera, keeping the real hostage as a human shield. Suddenly, he jabbed a needle into the young woman's neck. She gasped and fell to the ground trembling from the poison. He made a move towards Batman, swiping a surgical knife in his direction with practiced grace. Batman pushed the knife arm up and twisted the arm away from the body so that the weapon went flying across the room.

The killer slammed his fist into the dark knight's ribcage, and made another sweeping motion to bring his elbow on the vigilante's head. That move was counteracted when Batman ducked out of the way, and smashed the other man's face. The mask became slightly messed up, showing Batman a short glimpse of pale-grey skin crusted with dried blood. The mask went back to its place when the assassin pulled it down. The killer pulled out another knife and swiped it quickly in his direction, but he was able to dodge and sweep his leg underneath the murderer's legs. Hush fell in an ungraceful heap, but rolled out of the way of Batman's incoming strike. The killer breathed heavily, and looked beyond Batman seeming to have an idea in his head.

Hush somersaulted towards the victim, pulling her up as a shield once more. His calm and calculated gaze might unsettle any ordinary man, but Bruce was anything but that. The assassin swiftly pulled a gun off the floor to place it on the woman's head. He turned the safety off when the dark knight made a move towards him.

"If you move, she dies." Hush spat out, and Batman stayed still, not knowing how to act immediately. He was saved the trouble when a loud gunshot rang through the air, and Hush fell backwards from the force of a bullet in his shoulder. Batman shot forward, and pulled the woman away, placing her with the other hostages. The dark knight stood protectively in front of the people as the killer moved to stand, despite the wound. Batman looked to the source of the gunshot and was surprised to see Blake standing there with his police issued gun. The lieutenant stood ramrod straight, a look of cold steel in his gaze. The assassin looked to be infuriated by the interruption, and stood up, looking ready to pounce should either Blake or Batman show weakness.

"How did you get up here?" Hush hissed towards Blake, and took a step in his direction. Blake cocked the gun, and the killer stopped momentarily.

"The stairs." Blake stated dryly, his eyes never leaving the psychopath. Bruce felt something akin to pride for the man, and made a move towards the assassin. The killer tensed at this action, but didn't take a step backwards.

"What do you want?" Batman growled, repeating his earlier question. The killer snapped his head in the direction of the vigilante but didn't say a word. His eyes were full of hate and the glare was directed at Batman himself.

"To see you dead, and my task complete." The murderer finally hissed out, his eyes never leaving the dark knight's. Never had it occurred to Batman that Hush had any personal vendetta against him. His mind desperately tried to claw for any memory where he pissed the man off as the Batman. One came to his mind, and it involved the previous hostage situation where he'd rescued the boy, Derrick Lennox. That situation, he believed was a setup, purely for show, and shouldn't have angered Hush if it had really been a test. Another sprung to his mind, and a cold pit formed in his stomach.

This memory did not involve him as Batman, but rather as Bruce Wayne.

"Your unmasked rescue of the Commissioner's son was a folly." The killer hissed at him and Blake looked confused, and glanced over at Batman. "Your identity will remain hidden. The people of this city will not focus on anything else but my great work."

"Why not kill me at my most vulnerable?" Batman ground out, shock still lingering in his muscles. Hush could have very well have killed him in his sleep in the last several weeks, but he hadn't done so for a reason.

"Defiance of my orders will cost me dearly." Hush replied, still looking at Batman with cold eyes. This confirmed Bruce's suspicions of another player in the game. Suddenly, the murderer threw a knife in the vigilante's direction and in that moment, he jumped at Blake, quickly overtaking the man with the gun. Blake who had been distracted by the whole conversation, was easily made the hostage instead of the rescuer. Hush took hold of the camera, which had stopped transmitting before Blake's appearance, and put into the folds of his trench coat. The killer still had the lieutenant in a headlock and inched towards the elevator. "I can't kill you, but I can hurt you."

Hush threw an explosive at the doors, and they opened to an elevator-less shaft.

"My task here is complete." The killer whispered in a low voice, and yanked Blake to his feet. Batman watched in horror as he balanced on the edge precariously, before Hush shoved him over. Without much time to think, Bruce sprinted towards the elevator and jumped over the edge after Blake. He descended into the darkness of the pit.

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><p>AN: Holy cow! That was a long chapter! Heheh, I'm sorry about the cliffhanger, but not really. ;) I don't usually do cliffhangers, but this chapter was getting too long and I figured this was a good spot to stop. I must say, that out of all the chapters of this story so far, I enjoyed writing this one the most. I certainly anticipated writing more scenes where Blake and Batman work together, and this one just worked out nicely. I found time just flying by so quickly, and had little time to write. I hope everyone had a great Christmas and a fun New Year's Day! My thanks goes to **Phillipe363**and **Riptide2** for reviewing my last chapter, and to all you troopers that continue to read this story. Thanks for the favorites, following, reviewing and reading! It's great to see people enjoying my work!


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